Post by Deleted on Jun 1, 2014 21:58:20 GMT -6
"Hey, Fleet, me and you are gonna start training tomorrow, all right?"
After the grueling trip that was the emergency cargo deployment to Fairflanks, Soarin' and Fleetfoot saw that they had just been given a wakeup call. Being the toughest mission either had flown in months, if not years, the two got their flanks kicked. Neither seemed all that mad about it. In fact, they had seen opportunity. A chance to get better, so that the next time something liked Fairflanks happened, they'd be able to handle it much better. An ounce of prevention, a pound of cure, y'know.
"Remember, we're starting bright and early tomorrow morning. And you BETTER not sleep in, or I'm gonna come into your room and personally wake you up by any means necessary! You got that, sleepyhead? That's a promise!"
A promise Soarin' broke.
The day practice was supposed to begin was a beautiful, sunshiney morning. Not a cloud in sight, still winds. A perfect day for flying.
A perfect day Soarin' never saw.
In an almost too literal example of tragic irony, the frequent insomniac known as Soarin' had succumbed to the curse of eternal slumber...
Unlike the day of his sleep, within Soarin's unconscious dreaming mind, Fleetfoot would find herself in the middle of a rainstorm. Nowhere near as bad as the maelstrom of the Fairflanks Mission, but a Tempest none the less. Rain poured from above in a slow, steady, but near endless shower as dark clouds loomed overhead in what seemed like every direction. The occasional clap of thunder shook the world as its brother lightning lit up the night sky. Visibility in the air was not even an option. But below, on land, it was much bette-
Oh, did I say land? I meant ocean. I meant lots of ocean. In the open sea, with no land nor any sign of land, visibility was much more favorable. One could actually see down here.
Not that there was much to see, except for water.
Water, water everywhere. Nor a single drop to drink.
Nor a single sign of Soarin', who had apparently taken the phrase "Dream Big" quite literally.
The dark, but quiet sea churned calmly.
After the grueling trip that was the emergency cargo deployment to Fairflanks, Soarin' and Fleetfoot saw that they had just been given a wakeup call. Being the toughest mission either had flown in months, if not years, the two got their flanks kicked. Neither seemed all that mad about it. In fact, they had seen opportunity. A chance to get better, so that the next time something liked Fairflanks happened, they'd be able to handle it much better. An ounce of prevention, a pound of cure, y'know.
"Remember, we're starting bright and early tomorrow morning. And you BETTER not sleep in, or I'm gonna come into your room and personally wake you up by any means necessary! You got that, sleepyhead? That's a promise!"
A promise Soarin' broke.
The day practice was supposed to begin was a beautiful, sunshiney morning. Not a cloud in sight, still winds. A perfect day for flying.
A perfect day Soarin' never saw.
In an almost too literal example of tragic irony, the frequent insomniac known as Soarin' had succumbed to the curse of eternal slumber...
Unlike the day of his sleep, within Soarin's unconscious dreaming mind, Fleetfoot would find herself in the middle of a rainstorm. Nowhere near as bad as the maelstrom of the Fairflanks Mission, but a Tempest none the less. Rain poured from above in a slow, steady, but near endless shower as dark clouds loomed overhead in what seemed like every direction. The occasional clap of thunder shook the world as its brother lightning lit up the night sky. Visibility in the air was not even an option. But below, on land, it was much bette-
Oh, did I say land? I meant ocean. I meant lots of ocean. In the open sea, with no land nor any sign of land, visibility was much more favorable. One could actually see down here.
Not that there was much to see, except for water.
Water, water everywhere. Nor a single drop to drink.
Nor a single sign of Soarin', who had apparently taken the phrase "Dream Big" quite literally.
The dark, but quiet sea churned calmly.