This was not like that dream where she could have used clouds and rays of light as platforms and springboards to keep her aloft in the air. This was different. The trees were sparse and thin, growing too far apart from each other to allow Sun-Cursed to maintain an easy glide. She would always fall just a few feet short and would have to scamper up the tree's trunks, hoping the running start would push her further and farther just enough to land on target.It was always, always so close yet so far.
Frustration built up in her tiny frame as she tried yet again, only to fail. But just because it was difficult did not mean she would simply give up. There was always an undercurrent of difficulty to her life: be it in her health or in her relationships with others, with the world, and with herself. It was only recently where she'd found the support she needed and was even able to accept it.
Old habits died hard.
So once again, she picked herself up. Refusing to entertain the notion of changing her form to make this travel easier on her. Where was she even going? Where was she heading besides forward?
Add to that pile of questions why did she have to keep to the air as she did this? She had legs, didn't she? She didn't have to only rely on the membrane that stretched on her arms and sides if she wanted to escape whatever it was that pursued her. Skin was meant for the ground, she had the option to shift into a much larger, faster version of herself.
And yet.
And yet... she just knew this could only be resolved through airborne means. It would be difficult but not impossible. The MotherFather had gifted her wonderful dreams of taking to the air before. This was no different.
In this reframing of her circumstances, Sun-Cursed felt a surge of confidence swell along her tiny form. She climbed up the tree she'd failed to land on, scampering up its trunk onto the highest bough. There she paused, allowing the strange itching sensation that began at her armpits to spread all across the membrane of her sides.
She judged the distance to the nearest tree and nodded to herself. Despite experience telling her she can't make it, that she hadn't before and she still won't now, Sun-Cursed did not heed the doubts and naysaying. The itching had become a painful burning at this point and somehow this urged her to surge forward.
There was no running start, no wind up to springboard off, but she leapt forward all the same.
The relief was almost instantaneous. And it would not be a flap of skin that held her aloft but feathers and the beating of wings. It was not the triumphant chittering of a small rodent that came out of her mouth but a series of delighted hoots. Sun-Cursed glanced at herself, saw feathers and instinctively began preening as she had seen her avian pets (and feathered serpent) had done.
Despite her memories tying owls to shadows and inevitably leading to Wayward, Sun-Cursed was not too perturbed. She would in due time deal with her complicated feelings. Right now, she would take to the skies and soar.