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It hadn't taken long to find the villagers, and Marosa found himself directed towards where the balloons hung, tied to stakes to the ground. There was one catch, however - he had to make his own basket to attach to the balloon.

The gancanagh didn't see a problem with that.

There were an assortment of tools scattered around in a haphazard manner, making the redhead think that others had done the same thing he was about to do, only weren't much help in actually putting things away.

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and got to work on looking for two things to combine together that would hold him with no problem.

He rummaged through a few things - snake leather, rope, a bottle that was QUITE large, a flaming carpet (why you would want to be on fire while trying to float above the island was beyond him), a basket of foxfires - before finding white cloth and a net. Marosa reasoned that the two items would go well together, as the net was more vast than the rope itself and could cover and support more for the white cloth.

Laying them out and interweaving the white cloth in the net, Marosa made short work of it to attach it to the balloon, wasting no time in climbing in and lifting off into the sky.

Peering out over the edge of the makeshift basket, Marosa let out a low whistle as he surveyed the area, noting in his mind that the island was shaped into an S. It was very pretty from up above, but the basket kept flying higher, making the gancanagh reel in alarm. Had he accidentally made the basket too light!?

Glancing up to make sure that things could be toned down, Marosa found that he was headed right into a miasma cloud that was unavoidable, and tried to cover his face - it didn't make a damn bit of difference.

The faerie tried to breathe, but the air was much too thin and made it rather hard for him to do anything but clutch the side of the basket in terror.

He coughed and hacked and wheezed, doubling over and managing to put a tiny hole in the balloon so it would slowly sink back down, letting out enough air so that his weight would add gravity to lower him back to the ground.

It seemed far too long for the basket to reach the ground, but Marosa kept a careful eye on the balloon and the amount of air it expelled, making sure that he wouldn't suddenly plummet - until he felt a soft, gentle bump that let him know he was back on land.

He glanced over the side of the basket first - just to make sure.

Making a face, Marosa grimaced and picked up his used supplies, setting them aside in case anyone else wanted to use his makeshift basket, and picked up the balloon to toss it into the garbage that was there.

He stared at the array of tools scattered on the ground, now fully understanding why no one cleaned up after themselves - they were far too excited to get up into the air, and most must have had a very close call and wanted to escape the area once they were on the ground.

The gancanagh was alarmed that he felt the same way, but he wanted nothing more than to go to the other side of the island, not wanting to ever fly that high again.

He didn't look back as he walked away, intent on never repeating this particular venture again. Marosa coughed only a couple of times more, and then was gone.