The inventor smiled as her companion crowed loud enough to scatter the clouds around them.
Her flying machine worked.
More than worked, it defied expectations.
Wing
to wing with lark and eagle alike, they flew and what's more they would
make it home in time to tell the neighbors what rain tastes like before
it falls.
For once, her imagined outcome of this moment were an
underestimation. Her assumptions proved a pale imitation to the reality
that was flight!
And yet . . .
Despite the joys of
success and the prospect of proving herself to her peers, the inventor
could not help but feel a twinge of remorse. For up here, where the
horizon was no longer scenery to behold, but a destination to be met;
she felt alive.
The open air felt more a home to her than solid ground ever did.
Ever would.
For she could no longer foresee a future with her and earth.
She would not be staying long when next they landed.
It was a decision her heart made for her the moment they missed the ground and began to soar.
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