Gale Is Doing A Really God Impression Of A Ragdoll. She Lets Out A Quiet "oww..." As She Set On The Grass.

Gale is doing a really god impression of a ragdoll. She lets out a quiet "oww..." as she set on the grass. A gentle breeze carries the scent of flowers past them and ruffles her feathers a bit as she slowly rolls onto her stomach. "New record at least, never gone that high before." The way she slumps indicates that she's going to need a while to recover.

Soaring Skyward

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My warm up picture with the soft warm butt of http://gale-aerie.tumblr.com/ :x

Seeing no way out of it, she relents "Alright, if it's gonna be some honor or guilt thing, I'll stay at your place. Just let me get some of my stuff from my place first."

She hops to her feet and accompanies Rider out of the clinic and through the streets toward her neighborhood amongst the high rises. The lasting heat of the afternoon would make it easy enough to glide up to her place, though getting down would be tricky.

Soaring Skyward

"I don't know anypony that well, but I've seen inside. They've got 2 griffons, a dragon, a zebra, and 3 ponies. The owner gave me a tour once since I was curious. He explains that to ensure they can cook for any and all, they hired cooks from all over." he states, eating more of his tofu.

She takes another bite, thinking that tidbit over "I gotta say that's pretty cool."

"I'm good, thanks." She comes back out with a duffel bag slung under an arm. "And yeah, this is a mostly flyer neighborhood. Capitalizing on the thermals and all."

She readjusts the bag and looks to him "Well we can either try to glide down or take the stairs. I think I'd rather go stairs myself."

Soaring Skyward

For several minutes she spirals upward, gaining as much altitude from the thermal as possible. Soon enough however, the air begins to cool and lose it's lifting capability. With the, she gives a short call to Rider and begins pumping her wings, continuing to gain altitude in the thinning atmosphere.

She breathes deeply in time with her wingbeats. Each flap slightly harder than the last. The only sound in her ears the beat of her wings against the sky and the puffing of her lungs. Soon even that sound begins to fade and the endless blue above her slides that much closer to blackness.

With the puffs of fog from her breathing around her, she reaches her limit and pauses. Above her she sees the twinkle of the brightest stars, below the world stretches to the curved horizon. She makes a half turn to angle her head downward, and leaves her wings half-open to stabilize her descent.

Soaring Skyward