A Slight Shift in Posture

Silence first. Then the cool night air reached me. My long neck unlocked, tilting slow and measured to take in the heights. Beside me stood rows of rigid shapes, frozen mid-stride. I leaned forward on my wing joints, testing the balance. A small, cautious nudge of my wingtip tapped against the claw of the smaller figure next to me. A soft click answered. It did not stir, but my own pulse was steady and real. I held still, surveying the wide floor below.