1.2.2c First Flight

“It looks like you did it, hon,” Jorie said to Astrid. They had awakened that morning to fresh shoots breaking the ground, a few with fresh berries.

“Don’t tell anyone Silena helped,” Astrid said. “She’s afraid they will ask her to be a farmer at the Choosing and pressure her not to ride.”

“We promise dear,” Skye said.

Little Wing pushed his way past her and made ready to take a mouthful from the garden.

“Hey lazy, you need to wait!” she said and pushed his head away with her hip. But she smiled knowing that she and her friends would be less likely to spend their lives working the compost heaps and Little Wing would be less likely to spend the rest of his life in Inverness.

***

1.1.1.Swallowtail

Astrid blew the fresh drift of snowfall off of her drawing of the western mountains of the Spine. She’d hoped to catch the perfect sunset, and brought the chalks of red-orange and yellow, the same as she used for water colors in the summer. But this afternoon the sky was hazy and overcast and there would be no drama in the sunset. Only a few lines were needed to distinguish the peaks of the trees and spires of the craft shops from the snow, and a few more to mark the footpaths that etched dark lines in the valley heading toward the village center like rivulets collecting into a river. The view was similar to the woodcuts in the Manor House that showed the dramatic spires of the Western Mountains and deep valleys except that glaciers now replaced the rivers. The only color she needed was the blue for the Blois River that split the valley floor below her.

“Welcome,” Astrid said as Little Wing sat beside her and nuzzled his head under her hand to invite a scratch.

He had gotten stronger and larger with a steady supply of berries from her plot and the much larger garden the Elders had built at the south end of the valley. But Little Wing seemed itchy today, unable to settle down and sit quietly by her side to watch the sunset. His muscles twitched and he rose and sat back down.

“What is it?” Astrid asked, but Little Wing only honked.

With a start and a shudder, he rose and walked to edge of the valley wall, then looked over the edge and spread his wings. He turned to her and honked to get her attention and did something he had never done before.

Little Wing jumped off the edge of the cliff.

Astrid rose immediately to see if he had hurt himself. But when she looked over the edge, Little Wing rushed past her racing up from the valley floor and knocked her on her butt.

High above her, Little Wing raced across the valley with the erratic flight of a mayfly rather than the smooth glide of a dragon. He dove and barely missed the treetops as he pulled out of his dive, then flipped and spun with aerial maneuvers. Other dragons came to watch and immediately took the lead. Little Wing followed and learned.

As the sun set and the moonlight from Lon and Elen lit the valley, Little Wing landed near Astrid. He kneeled and lowered his head in the dragons request for her to ride. She had no saddle or bridle but trusted him. And together they flew.

 
When the next Choosing came, Astrid simply appeared in her riding leathers and the Elders logged her declaration to ride.  Her people called them Swallowtail and they remained together for years—until the Tops.

...to be continued ...
(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.