Gea loved Monoceros.

The winds tugged at her feathers, and the thermals made her wings itch to fly. She longed to fly nearer to the ever-whirling twister, but wasn't comfortable enough with her flying abilities to dare. So she settled for looping in the softer thermals, where she could land on the cliffs if she needed to.

Speech. Thought.

And, once again, the thermals drew her.

She found herself standing on the precipice of one of the cliffs, feeling the winds ruffle her feathers. Her wings remained tight at her sides - she had learned long ago not to spread them until she was ready to fly, unless she wanted to suddenly find herself at the whims of the winds.

And so, when she was ready, she spread her wings, and leaned forward, releasing her grip. Almost before she could fall, she was lifted, a thermal blooming before her and providing the lift beneath her wings, sending her shooting up, up, up.

Speech. Thought.