I've been standing up on that cliff again recently. For some time the breeze was pleasant, and I let the wind wave through and around me. Storms rushed in, and I found myself pulling my wings in tightly, huddling against the ground and waiting, wishing, for the wind to pass.
But I do love a good storm.
I'll stay crouched, poised, watching the horizon through the wind and crashing rain, straining to listen through the rolling thunder. Perched upon toes, wings opening again just barely - cautious of the storm, but excited for the clear skies that are sure to follow.
