The wind whipped his face as Pipit coaxed his Loftwing to a higher altitude. "Come on, Oscar," he urged, stroking the moss green feathers on his guardian bird's neck. Below them, but further ahead, a golden Loftwing carried the small wooden Bird Statuette.
Pipet's objective: capture that statuette before the other racers. Winning this competition would allow him to complete the Wing Ceremony and advance to the next level in his knighthood.
His heart pounded as he leaned forward and guided Oscar into a swift descent toward their goal. They picked up speed, and Pipit was soon making his way ahead of the competition. He never felt closer to his Loftwing than in this exhilarating moment, riding together to achieve their goal, to prove their skill, and test their bond.
Pipit sensed his bird's sudden distress, and pulled up sharply. He only barely managed to evade a brown Loftwing as it lunged to attack him.
"Ho, Cawlin!" Pipit shouted, "That was an unworthy move!"
The rider of the brown Loftwing turned just long enough to sneer in his direction before pressing his advantage. Cawlin stretched for the Bird Statuette, but his arms were too short, and the golden Loftwing swerved away.
Fledge, the third rider in this competition was now the closest to the golden bird. This was his first time in a Wing Competition, and the timid young trainee had only barely qualified to participate. Fledge lacked confidence, but he always put forth good effort.
Fledge squinted as he focused completely on the goal. He prepared to reach for the statue, heedless of his surroundings. Cawlin grit his teeth and readied his Loftwing for another attack. Fledge would never see it coming.
Pipit, however, saw how this could unfold: the attack would slow both Cawlin and Fledge down, opening the way for Pipit to grab the statue, win the competition, and advance on his path to knighthood.
He just had to win. His instructors had high expectations for him; Pipit couldn't disappoint them by losing for the second year in a row. And Karane…he'd join the senior ranks with Karane, who'd passed the Wing Ceremony last year.
But could he really exploit Fledge's misfortune for his own gain?
Pipit pressed his lips together and realized that, no, he could not. Not when Cawlin was cheating. Not while it was in his power to defend Fledge. He would rather lose the race again, than hang his comrade out to dry.
Cawlin attacked. With a fierce shout, Pipit steered his Loftwing into a dive, moving to intercept.
The brown Loftwing was forced to pull back before stiking his intended target. Fledge now had his opening to grab the statue. However, the sound of Pipit's battle cry and the sudden nearby confrontation startled Fledge and threw him off course. The young trainee nearly slipped off his Loftwing in fright.
Cawlin flew off in pursuit of the statue while Pipit coasted to make sure his classmate regained control of his bird. "You all right, Fledge?"
"Y-yes!" the boy called back shakily.
Pipit nodded and wheeled his green Loftwing around, renewing his pursuit. "Come on, Oscar, we can still make it!" His bird cawed in solidarity and lunged at a speed that nearly left his rider breathless.
Pipit carefully shifted his weight, and then inched his way higher on the Loftwing's neck, until he had his feet braced against the bird's shoulder blades and one hand clinging to the crest of his its head. He was gaining on Cawlin and the golden Loftwing that held their prize in its claws. In one breathtaking moment, both riders grabbed for the statuette.
Pipit's fingers closed around the wooden figure and freed it from the bird's claws. For a moment, he could only stare at it in dazed awe as he slid back down to proper riding position. Then a grin bloomed on his face. He shouted his elation to the sky, and hugged his Loftwing's neck. "We did it, Oscar! We did it!"
Nearby, Fledge cheered as well. "That was amazing! Great flying!"
They exchanged exhausted, happy grins and, even more than Fledge's praise, Pipit was grateful that he could look the other boy in the eyes without shame.