Go flying together. It seemed like a simple enough concept, but of course, with the God of Failure involved, nothing was ever simple. They were sitting in a sparse wood, nothing too close to anything else, and they were alone. No one to laugh at him, at least, as he had not even gotten a smile out of his company in the time he had known her so he really doubted he would get a full out laugh no matter what he did. Still, it was not like he wanted to just embarrass himself for the hell of it.
He did not have to try, and, unfortunately, embarrass himself he did.
Maskhara lifted lightly from the ground. For her, flying was as much he wings as it was the magic itself. She knew that not all Gods needed wings to fly, though she had never seen it otherwise. Maybe she had been told a lie. Whatever the case, she flew with a light air and she hardly needed to flap her bat like wings, keeping herself afloat with a casual ease. She waited for Tindika to join her, since this was his idea, and she tilted her head at him expectantly. He looked up at her and offered her a reassuring smile, stepping away from the tree he had slept under and stretched his wings out to their full length.
They promptly bumped into a different tree and the top of a bush. Not deterred by that, he shifted his position and was able to stretch them fully again, free of impediment. He flapped once and kicked up a lot of dust, coughing because of it and shutting his eyes as bits of underbrush debris billowed up and got into his face. He shook his head and coughed again, but continued to flap until his large frame lifted off the ground. His style was much different, and he relied entirely on the strength of his wings and the movement of his muscles. His body lifted up and he felt a thrill of success.
He was off the ground.
Feeling like the danger had passed, he flapped his wings and moved upward, toward the tree tops. But not by them. He clipped his wing on one of the most bushy trees, getting snagged by the limbs and wood and getting pulled back down with a yelp of pain and surprise. He tumbled out of the sky, falling the length of a few feet he had managed to climb, and landed hard on his back on the ground. Maskhara watched all this with wide eyes, and fluttered down to sit beside him on the ground, tilting her head to the side and nudging him with her paw. She had seen dead mortals before, and they did not move when poked, but she did not think the God would be killed so easily. Would he? She was worried.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Tindika said suddenly, startling her as he flopped his body to the side, then got his feet under him and stood up straight. He looked at her, ears down, tail low, expression sheepish and very embarrassed. She watched him and then, to his deep surprise and partial joy, she smiled at him. It was not a teasing expression, though, and she was not laughing at him for his spectacular failure at doing something natural to all gods, but because he was safe and she was relieved. He grinned at her, shaking off embarrassment immediately. Bright side struck again. “Let’s try that again, with less… crashing into trees and then the ground. That part hurt, and was not fun. At all.”
He grinned at her, then padded out a bit, finding a clearing large enough to suit his purposes, just to be absolutely sure he was going to be able to get out without embarrassing himself again. He flapped and this time he cleared the woods without any more snags. He laughed, flapping his wings and spinning around, which resulted in him wobbling dangerously low again. He caught himself, though, and flapped his way higher, clearing the trees and moving into the sky. Maskhara zipped up with him, not having any trouble at all with her own efforts. She looked at him and shook her head.
“I forgot what we were supposed to do,” she said honestly, too distracted by the whole mess that had come with just getting into the air.
“I have too, but why don’t we just fly around?”
He never really took the time he needed to, to really appreciate the fact that he could fly. And that it was fun. It was something as natural to him as walking was to other lions, as breathing was to all living creatures on the savannah. So of course he took it for granted, and used it to get himself where he needed to go. He did not really appreciate it, not like it deserved, though he wondered if that was why he ended up crashing into things all the time. Some kind of karmic pay back. He doubted that was really the case, but why not waste some hours doing something simple, fun, and failure free? Beside the take off. But that was all behind him now, or rather beneath him as he flew away from the ground and the trees, his new friend at his side.
She made a noise, and he would almost have sworn it was a laugh.
“Okay, let’s do that then,” she said, and she zipped toward him, cutting through the air with surprising speed for one that seemed so calm and collected all the time. She rammed into him playfully before flying away. He realized she had tagged him, and it was his turn to give chase. He laughed and flapped after her, his mighty wings propelling him forward and the chase was on. He was going to have a hard time catching her, as she seemed to have a lot of speed on her side where his bulk and the size of his wings actually slowed him down. But that did not hamper the fun of it, as she turned around to tease him, ducking down or cutting up, spinning around as the followed suit and tried to catch her.
Their laughter, both of them, though his voice was louder and stronger, filled the skies.
(Word Count in Word: 1,063)
