The other Twilight Skies i posted is a much older version as the whole thing is undergoing an almost complete restart.
As this is an excerpt there isn't any plot or anything in this post so please just comment on any issues you find, any ideas you have and whether or not you like it and think i should keep it.
Thanks in advance
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I began flapping my wings hard. It was easy, as if I’d been doing it my entire life. Each flap generating large whoosh-ing sounds which I was amazed the other girls couldn’t hear. I rose steadily into the clouds where I allowed myself to glide in slow circles above the stables.
Flying, exhilarating, overjoyed, slightly crazed overflowing fun; words aren’t adequate to describe the sensation.
It was absolutely mind blowing.
I tilted my wings downwards and flapped hard once, which sent me rocketing away from the fencing girls and towards the fields beyond the stables.
Pure joy and confidence filled me. Just before I hit the dry dirt and grass I pulled upwards flapping with all my strength. I shot into the air and laughed out loud. The wind in my hair, in my feathers felt like an extremely soft living embrace, changing every moment as if a living thing. Undiluted happiness flowed into me stemming from a carefree wonder I had never experienced before. I could just fly away from all my problems. I imagine this would be the feeling of coming ‘home’ after a traumatic experience. My experience just happened to be my life, and the sky, my home.
The fields turned to trees much more rapidly than I expected. Flashing by below so fast they should have blurred easily. My wings weren’t the only new thing about me; my eyesight was wayyy better than before. Where as before I needed glasses to see normally, now I needed something like anti-glasses. I could see every individual vein in every individual leaf on every individual tree as I flew passed when I should have only seen a green and brown splodge. I swivelled and tilted my wings in midair in order to rise higher and face back towards the orphanage which turned out to be an extremely bad idea as my right wing smashed me squarely in the face. Disorientated I tumbled in the trees only a few metres below. Branches and twigs ripped and tore viciously at my wings which instinctively curled around my body, right wing spiralling upwards and around, left wing downwards and around completely protecting my skin. I hit a ‘Y’ shaped curve with my hip, stopping all momentum abruptly.
I’m gonna have a bruise there tomorrow, and that’s if it isn’t broken.
Fortunately there wasn’t enough pain for it to be broken. Slowly, ignoring the splintered feeling in my hip and wings I disentangled myself and wings spread glided the six or so metres to the thick foliage at the base of the tree.
I took stock of my wounds. My wings were pretty torn up; feathers littered the ground beneath me, a few spots of blood stained my beautiful plumage. My hip spiked pain through my body, scolding me for thinking I could just suddenly know how to fly properly without any knowledge about it whatsoever.
Looking up, the trees canopy obscured all but a few spots of the muted, cloud covered sky. In my joy I hadn’t even noticed the great grey blobs creep in.
No way can I take off from here. Stupid trees.
Walking back to the orphanage or flying back from a clear area in that direction seemed the best option so I began trudging through the dense undergrowth.
My wings were an immense pain in the ass.
I kept losing feathers to the wild, sinister bush and each one that was tugged away felt like I was losing part of my newfound freedom.
After only a few minutes walking I was so exhausted that I had to stop and staring longingly at an old oak next to me. No leaning against it for me.
Circling my wings around in front of me so I could see how many feathers I had lost, I found my wings looking much worse that before. Now small splotches of blood weren’t the only grime on my wings. Twigs were stuck in-between my dirt caked feathers.
It hurt to see them so damaged, no longer beautiful, but a testament to why largely winged birds are found on mountains rather than in forests.
I began shivering as the day drew to an end. The best day of my life so far.
Groaning, I picked myself up from the ground, refolding my wings tightly against my back. It was difficult and filthy feathers scraped against my back.
Grimacing, I started walking through the forest again. I wanted a bath so bad id even give Chelsea an honest to god normal, non violent or painful hug for it. Of course, that didn’t mean I couldn’t get her afterwards.
Smiling now, the bush began to thin until I finally stood in a small clearing with a quiet calming stream that fed into a miniature lake.
Huh. What are the chances?
Stripping down, which actually took awhile considering I had to untie my super tight knots at the back of my blouse, I slipped in the cool clear water. My wings touched the water and I shivered involuntarily.
Is it even ok if my wings get wet? Maybe my feathers will fall out or something…
It couldn’t be helped though so despite my paranoia I lowered them gently into the water, only, they wouldn’t submerge. My wings were buoyant. Once again circling them around myself I pushed them underwater with me, completely submerged. Once the feathers soaked through they stayed underwater easily. I carefully rubbed my hands through my feathers picking out dirt and twigs, taking extra time where I found blood. After once such spot I washed my hands at the waters surface. Clear water around my hands tinged red.
I froze; there amongst it were metallic white gold veins of colour, streaking through the misty red water.
Figuring it was just some tree sap or something; I scrubbed the rest of my body and pulled my huge weight out of the water. I almost fell back in, my wings weighed a tonne wet, but dug my hands into the dirt, yanking myself forward, grazing my fingers on the rocks beside the stream. Now fully out of the water, I turned and washed my hands in the now not so clear pool.
Once again the water turned a misty red with white gold streaks.
Raising my hands I could see I had a cut along the inside of my thumb. It oozed small droplets of blood. Only, imbedded in the drops were white golden flecks. They speckled the drops like rust.
I crouched, hunched over, mesmerized by the slow movement of the white golden flecks.
I stood, rubbed my thumb across the palm of my other hand. Sure enough bright red fractured, like a shattered mirror, by metallic white gold cracks. I washed the smear away before I put my clothes back on, deep in thought.
What am I?
Just thinking it scared the crap outta me. My life had exploded. Endlessly the questions circled my mind; I’d never be the same person again. I knew that much.
