Eeeee… Hnnn… Eeeeee… Hnnng…

The Woobat snored the day away in their cliffside homes. Noibat singled out the breath of one Woobat from their roostmates and focused on it, trying to calm his own ragged breathing.

Eeeee… Hnnng…? Neeeee… Hnnn…

As Noibat scrambled up the plateau for the thousandth time, the Woobat's steady snoring set the tempo of the sentence that echoed in his mind:

Remember your wings. Remember your wings.

"Remember your wings." That was basically his personal mantra. Relaxation, repetition, and distraction: Noibat needed every trick in the book to suppress his fear of heights, but flight made it all worth it.

This was Noibat's big project. With no one to teach him, he was learning how to fly the old-fashioned way: by jumping off a cliff and seeing what worked. Winging it, if you will.

It had been slow going at first. He had spent many nights sitting on the edge only to climb down in defeat when the morning arrived, yet Noibat kept coming back—it wasn't like he had anything better to do with his spare time.

He shivered, though not from the cold of high altitudes. He was only thirty feet above the rocky scree. It was time to go again.

"Ceeeek!"

He let out his battle cry as he leapt from the cliff, more of a whisper than a scream, out of respect for the sleeping Woobat.

First, Noibat glided away from the plateau, putting a bit of distance between himself and the katabatic winds coming off of the caprock. Gliding was like a controlled taste of falling, which was helpful for the next part. In order to actually fly, Noibat would have to give up a bit of stability by flapping his wings.

Remember your wings. Breathe in, breathe out. Find the shape and rhythm. Downstroke, Woosh, Upstroke. Downstroke, Woosh, Upstroke.

Just like that, Noibat was treading the air.

Wow! Ha ha! I still can't believe I'm actually doing this.

This wasn't his first time flying—how long did you have to stay in the air in order for it to really count? His true first flight was lost somewhere in those early days of crash landing after only a few seconds. Still, Noibat felt a rush of joy every time he flew, even after weeks of practice.

His fear of heights wasn't an issue if he stayed close to the ground; he could watch the rocks streaking by under his feet and pretend he was looking out the window of a bus—though saying flight was "just like riding a bus" would be a gross understatement. This wasn't the weightless floating of a dream, this was living flight: slicing through the wind, rocking with the rhythm of his wingbeats, the fine hairs of his patagia sampling the swirling atmosphere.

After an hour of this, Noibat decided to stop and rest. Flapping his wings was tiring work—not so much for his "arms" as the clichéd joke implied, but for the muscles of his chest. He'd managed nearly a full lap around the plateau, farther than he'd traveled on the day he woke up, and in only a third of the time! Flight was a game changer. No more scraping his claws in the sand, no more long hours walking to get water, new ways of hunting and defending himself! Sure, he needed to work on his stamina, but someday soon he would fly away from the scrublands and never look back.

Noibat had started his flight session at the early hour of six in the afternoon. He could actually watch the sun set for once from here on the south side of the plateau. It was a comforting sight. The moon and stars looked subtly different in this world, but the sun seemed about the same, if only because he couldn't look directly at it.

You know, the aurora is neat and all, but I never take the time to just watch the sunset. I should come out here more often.

The Joltik were roaming the cliffs in the usual way, basking in the last light of the day like a field of daffodils. Noibat thought about throwing a rock at them, then changed his mind—it would've spoiled the moment. He didn't talk to the Joltik or give them names anymore. Was Scuttle or Charlotte still out there, or had he eaten them somewhere along the way? That first day on the caprock seemed so long ago…

Noibat shook his head hard. This wasn't the time to mope around. Tomorrow was going to be an important day.

Noibat spent the whole night in his cave, prepping for his maiden voyage. He needed to rig up the net just right if he was going to make it all the way to the black plateau. Flying long-distance with cargo would be a real challenge, but the desert seemed too large to cross without carrying supplies.

The following morning, Noibat was back on the cliffs, a bottle and a dead Joltik strapped to his chest. He looked like a bat who'd been the victim of a very underfunded tag-and-release experiment. The method he'd landed on was to use the net to sling his cargo underneath his body like a Babybjörn. The silk thread dug into his shoulders. His stomach churned with nervous anticipation and a fresh wave of terror; he was starting a full forty feet off the ground to compensate for the extra weight.

Here goes nothing…

Noibat yelled out his battle cry with full force.

"CEEEK!"

And he was off!

The twisted desert was an aerial obstacle course where you couldn't run into anything, much more beginner-friendly than a forest or a cave. From the air, Noibat thought that he could actually feel the walls pushing him back. Downstroke, Woosh, Upstroke. He needed to pace himself. Landing now would mean walking the rest of the way, since he couldn't take off from the ground. He weaved south by southwest toward the black plateau over the matchstick bushes and parched earth.

Can't take my stuff now, huh, you stupid squirrel?

An Emolga watched Noibat with disinterest as he made his way up the stream. Noibat banked from side to side over the placid water, watching his reflection change as he passed in and out of the canyon's shadow.

Both Unfezant and Prideful looked up as he circled around the pool and landed clumsily on the shore, much to Noibat's satisfaction. He'd been waiting a long time to show off his flying skills in front of the flock. The Pidove cooed in applause, or possibly just alarm.

The two evolved Pokémon, for their part, seemed more interested in Noibat's ridiculous outfit. Prideful squinted as Noibat unwrapped the bottle and the Joltik from his sling. Unfezant inspected Noibat's offering more closely than usual, like he was worried it might have gone bad somehow. He flicked his crest. Surely Unfezant recognized the Galvantula web for what it was. Maybe he was impressed, he couldn't have known that Noibat only stole it. Had Noibat finally earned some respect from the leader of the flock?

Unfezant stepped away from the Joltik in silent approval, and Prideful went on the hunt.

"Doo-ooo?" Maggie warbled, which Noibat interpreted to mean: 'What the heck is this stuff?' or 'Where did you get that?'

They'd seen the bottle before, of course—the bottle was a classic—but the net was a new sight. They folded it back on itself, they picked at it, they hid underneath it. They even looked at the net through the bottle. Prideful caught Noibat's eye. She cupped her wing so that it was parallel to the ground, like she was sheltering an invisible Pidove. 'Kids, am I right?'

Pretty soon, it was time for Noibat to head back home. He ran through his pre-flight check: he had A) two Cutiefly, B) one bottle (only half-full to save weight), C) a funny-looking stick that Maggie had found, and D) the net which held everything together. He settled on a route up the cliff that looked easy, waved goodbye to Maggie and the rest, and set his claws into the many-layered slate walls. As Noibat fell into the hand-over-hand rhythm of climbing, he idly wondered how the canyon had formed. The surfaces seemed too rough to have been carved by running water.

"KWAA!"

Noibat slipped! A gasp escaped his throat as he scrabbled for a foothold. Luckily, he caught himself before he could fall fifteen feet into the thickets below. Noibat turned his head to give the culprit a rattled look. Unfezant stared back at him, his wings stretched out ominously.

What's the matter?! Why are you so upset all of the sudden?

Prideful was staring intently, too, and she wasn't squinting. Unfezant cupped his wings parallel to the ground, pointed up with his beak, then stretched again. Noibat had no idea what he was trying to say. Something about the Pidove?

"KWAAAAA!"

Whatever it was, Unfezant wasn't backing down. His chest feathers were puffed out like an emerald cravat. Maggie stood at their father's side, round as a cotton ball, the very image of anxiety.

Fine, be that way! Noibat lowered himself back to the ground, his ears twitching between fear, annoyance, and embarrassment.

He locked eyes with Unfezant again. His cold expression communicated nothing: no explanation and no sympathy.

You know, I don't know why I spend so much time worrying what you think about me. You're literally just a big bird.

Noibat flattened his ears, bared his fangs, and hissed.

Unfezant's eyes narrowed. He took a few hostile steps forward and raised his wings to take off. For a moment, Noibat thought that Unfezant was about to chase him out of the canyon.

Whatever Unfezant intended to do, Prideful was faster. "Kaa…" She darted into Unfezant's path and held him back. He paused with his wings still unfurled, breaking eye contact with Noibat. That was his cue to leave. Noibat ran from the spring with the bottle clanking against his knees.

Once Noibat was far away enough to be sure that Unfezant wasn't following him, he began to climb. It was harder than he'd expected. Unlike the yellow plateau, there were no flat ledges to stop on if he needed a breather, and the jagged slate cut into the soft pads of his wings and feet. He needed to concentrate on something else to avoid looking down.

Geez, I wonder who ruffled his feathers today. Maybe he doesn't want me climbing on the walls like a Joltik… or he doesn't want me to fly at all? He can't be such a control freak with every single Pokémon in the whole desert! I know I didn't give him much reason to trust me at first, but after so long you'd think he wouldn't be such a bossy pain in the—

Klak-klak. A shadow passed overhead, stopping right where it was sure to cover Noibat's eyes.

He craned his neck. Two amber crescents gazed down on him.

Mandibuzz yawned. Their beak closed with a sharp clock.

Of course Mandibuzz would pull something like this. Probing Pokémon for weakness was their entire shtick; they would never miss the chance to harass Noibat while he climbed.

Noibat hugged the cliff. What should he do? He thought he understood how Mandibuzz operated, at least better than Unfezant: they were strong, composed, ruthless, and always on the lookout for an easy meal.

OK, Mandibuzz… Noibat fished around inside his net. What do you think… about this? He pulled out a Cutiefly and waved it in the air. The orange eyes slowly turned to follow the bait.

Go fetch! Noibat chucked the limp Cutiefly over his shoulder, trying not to flinch as it slammed into the dirt. The orange eyes instantly snapped back to him.

"BAW! GAW!"

Darn. That could have gone a lot better.

Perhaps the vulture Pokémon deserved more credit than a distractible puppy. The way they had taunted him back then… it was like they had a sense of humor, or whatever passed for humor among wild Pokémon. They were probably thinking about dropping a rock on his head or something. Noibat didn't want to wait around for them to make up their mind. He started to climb up the cliff again.

"GAW! BA-AW GAW! GAW!"

Another outburst of harsh cawing. For some reason, Mandibuzz seemed weirdly… chatty?

Noibat winced as the sun reappeared. Mandibuzz was in the canyon behind him, hovering outside his field of vision, calling out with strange new cries.

It was kind of stupid in retrospect, but he never expected Mandibuzz to go after him like this. They'd had so many other chances! If he jumped off now, would they leave him alone? Which was worse: climbing another ten feet, or hitting the earth with glass strapped to his chest? Maybe he could aim for the stream. Noibat wasted precious seconds agonizing over his options, head spinning with indecision and vertigo.

Everything was going so well before…

In the end, he chose to stick with what he'd practiced. Noibat would gather his courage and climb.

Mandibuzz went quiet. Noibat climbed a little more quickly.

A jolt of primal terror shot down Noibat's spine as the claws clamped down on his shoulders!

VAAAM! VAAAM! VAAAAM!

Noibat let out attack after attack. Being carried by another Pokémon was a very different experience to flying on your own; he was jerked about and buffeted by wind as he struggled against Mandibuzz's vice-like grip. Their wingbeats faltered under the barrage of sound, but it wasn't enough. Noibat managed to pull his shoulder free, only for Mandibuzz to catch him again by the wing.

Even as the talons sank into his flesh, Noibat was more distressed by the ground receding beneath his feet—first the floor of the canyon, then the black plateau itself.

Mandibuzz let go. They preferred to let gravity do the hard work.

But Noibat wasn't a flightless Panpour. He flipped onto his stomach, seized the air, and glided right onto the caprock.

"GAW! GAW! BAA-A-A!"

The leggy Woobat could fly?! Mandibuzz's skirt rattled apocalyptically.

The caprock of the black plateau was covered in jutting scales where the slate had been chipped away by the elements. Not good ground for fighting. There was almost no cover to hide behind, either. Almost. Actually, as luck would have it, Noibat had landed next to the only structure on the entire caprock—he might have flown toward it subconsciously.

"Cheep?"

The nest was a sort of lopsided bowl three times as tall as he was. Sun-bleached wood and bone were woven together into one solid barrier against the constant wind. Other less identifiable matter filled the gaps.

Two young Vullaby were peeking over the rim.

Shit. So that's what Unfezant was warning me about.

There was a reason why the Pidove flew so low in the canyon, and why Mandibuzz never strayed far from the black plateau. The spring may belong to Unfezant and his flock, but the caprock was the territory of Mandibuzz and their chicks.

It was too late for regrets. Mandibuzz was already upon him. They clawed at Noibat from above in furious defense of their young, not caring if their skirt got tangled. Noibat couldn't drive them away and he couldn't outrun them, so he dodged, ducked, and blasted them with his ears. Mandibuzz swooped low and withdrew, looping around to Noibat's blindspot before he could respond.

"BAW!"

Mandibuzz was going berserk, but Noibat didn't give in: he jabbed and sliced, clawed and bit, fighting like a true Pokémon. Noibat had picked up a thing or two by watching his neighbors.

There was a strange peacefulness to this manic battle—maybe not peace, but honesty: no plan to second-guess, one enemy to fight, none of the drawn-out confusion of his life at large. He liked having a clear goal.

Unfortunately, Mandibuzz knew how to overpower a struggling bat. Talons raked across Noibat's back. The net was coming undone. The Vullaby were chirping excitedly.

VAAAM!

Noibat leaned into the blow as Mandibuzz came by for another pass. They reeled away, screeching. There was his opening! Noibat made a break for the canyon.

He skidded to a halt. The stream stretched out below him like a trailing ribbon. Even after all his training, he couldn't stop himself from hesitating on the brink.

"BAW!"

A wide-open beak plunged toward his eyes. He ducked.

Shhrip!

'AAAAGH!' "EEEEEE!"

Gone. The peace was gone, the hope was gone, imploded in one unfathomable moment. Noibat felt a terrible strain that no human body could experience. Mandibuzz was lifting him by the ear.

Like the Woobat before him, he was nothing but a limp mass in Mandibuzz's beak. The world outside the confines of his body began to fade as he was dragged away from the cliff, back over the shale, up to the rim of the nest…

Crash! The femur came free of the nest in an avalanche of bone. Noibat swung wildly and Thump! It hit Mandibuzz squarely on the chest, splintering under the impact. Noibat fell heavily to the ground.

Heat and nauseating pressure. Noibat groped blindly for a new weapon. Something was getting in his eyes. Shards of bone, sticks, fabric—the bottle! A rasping snarl rose in Mandibuzz's breast. Now, before the talons closed in on him! Noibat bashed Mandibuzz with an overhand strike honed on many, many Joltik.

Kssssh! The bottle shattered in a brilliant flash of light!

"GAAAAW!"

"Cheep!" "Cheep!"

Darkness bloomed across Noibat's vision. He could hear the sweep of wings and the crackle of bone and glass—Mandibuzz was lashing out at random, trying to interpose themselves between him and the frightened Vullaby. Noibat grabbed his net and ran. There was no time to hesitate again, he just floundered to the edge of the canyon and jumped. Noibat flew like there was no tomorrow, flapping and flapping until not even he could hear Mandibuzz's cries. Until…

Until…

Noibat looked down. The canyon and the black plateau were far behind him. Without the caprock at his sides, his true height was plain to see. He was hundreds of feet over the desert.

He froze. His wings were made of paper.