With constant traveling, Khuluma was really getting the hand of this whole flying thing enough to feel that he was bordering on talent. During his long flights, scanning the area for signs of life and just taking in the world around him, he had started to build off of that first lesson Limbuko gave him. Gliding had turned to waves, turns, planned tumbles (as opposed to the accidents), and dips. Even flapping his wings was less of a stressor as his body became stronger to withstand the strain. He still required rest and when it came to storms and other intense weather conditions, he waited it out on the ground.
As a small feat for the day, Khuluma had landed in a tree that could support his weight. Settling in a branch, he looked out and noticed how very flat the world was. From here, he could see all around and he grinned at the wide expanse that he had traveled, before it slowly went away as he considered that it would be what he would have to fly over once he was rested enough. The bad thing about being alone was that no one was around to see his progress or share in his accomplishments. This often resulted in clapping for himself and giving small hurrahs when there was no one about.
In the tree, he laid down, glad that he didn’t have to hold on the dear life to stay on. Despite flying, he still sometimes got afraid of heights. It was a high enough distance from the ground to his branch to cause some damage, but short enough that catching his fall with his wings would be impossible for him. Laid down on his stomach, he enjoyed the shade of the trees and the fluttering of the birds. Lucky for him, no monkeys.
