"Is he crazy?" Gasped an onlooker, one of about ten, who stood gathered around the western launching platform of Galskon, upon the edge of which a lean form rested, working with heavy bags of earth and stone, and smaller bags of the same, but carefully measured substances.
"Maybe." A male replied, wings shifting eagerly behind him as he leaned over to whisper quietly to the woman, "He does this every other week. He claims if he can find the right combination of rock and dirt, he can fly out of Balsker's Gape and live."
The small crowd titters at this, though some outright guffaw, which draws the attention of the lean form on the platform over his shoulder. A scowl given, he turns back to his work, plucking three more pebbles out from the bag, before placing it into the bag he'd filled with dirt. Closing the bag, then, he ties it tightly closed with rope, moving it aside to pick up a fresh bag and repeat the process.
"That poor boy." The first onlooker states, turning as she makes to leave, "Someone should bring him to the Oracle. He must be sick, if he tries so hard for such impossible things!" She states, before flying off back to town.
"Maybe. I think he's just stuck in his youth, still. He'll turn back when the time comes that he's standing on the edge with those bags, realizing it's futile." The second remarks, before flying off after her - As does most of the group.
The male in question, with shoulder-length pale-blond hair, and equally fair skin, continues to go about his work, glancing every once in a while to the equations he has written down on the paper next to him. He'd been at this for too long to give up, now.. His wings flex to himself at the thought, giving an eager flap or two, before resting simply on the ground. He brushes his golden loincloth back so it rests out of the way over his loose white knee-length trousers, pausing in his work just for a moment to look out toward the swirling clouds in the distance. That wall, which he knew held winds powerful enough to knock down even the most powerful Seabion flight master, was going to let him pass someday. He'd fly beyond those walls, and see what was out there.. And then he'd even fly back, and share his adventures with the people.
Call him crazy, will they?
They'll see..
He grunts quietly, looking back down at his work as he goes to sorting.
"Maybe." A male replied, wings shifting eagerly behind him as he leaned over to whisper quietly to the woman, "He does this every other week. He claims if he can find the right combination of rock and dirt, he can fly out of Balsker's Gape and live."
The small crowd titters at this, though some outright guffaw, which draws the attention of the lean form on the platform over his shoulder. A scowl given, he turns back to his work, plucking three more pebbles out from the bag, before placing it into the bag he'd filled with dirt. Closing the bag, then, he ties it tightly closed with rope, moving it aside to pick up a fresh bag and repeat the process.
"That poor boy." The first onlooker states, turning as she makes to leave, "Someone should bring him to the Oracle. He must be sick, if he tries so hard for such impossible things!" She states, before flying off back to town.
"Maybe. I think he's just stuck in his youth, still. He'll turn back when the time comes that he's standing on the edge with those bags, realizing it's futile." The second remarks, before flying off after her - As does most of the group.
The male in question, with shoulder-length pale-blond hair, and equally fair skin, continues to go about his work, glancing every once in a while to the equations he has written down on the paper next to him. He'd been at this for too long to give up, now.. His wings flex to himself at the thought, giving an eager flap or two, before resting simply on the ground. He brushes his golden loincloth back so it rests out of the way over his loose white knee-length trousers, pausing in his work just for a moment to look out toward the swirling clouds in the distance. That wall, which he knew held winds powerful enough to knock down even the most powerful Seabion flight master, was going to let him pass someday. He'd fly beyond those walls, and see what was out there.. And then he'd even fly back, and share his adventures with the people.
Call him crazy, will they?
They'll see..
He grunts quietly, looking back down at his work as he goes to sorting.
