He turned quickly in the air and fell straight on the flat part of a huge trunk. Then he ran to the end of it, from which he leaped out, flapping his wings to test the flight. From there, it was about ninety feet, but the kid wasn't afraid. He was accustomed to heights, as well as to his risks. On more than one occasion he had broken a few ribs, the cinnamon bone, and his shoulder. Since he was younger, he always had recovered very fast.
Nothing took him from there, from the top of the trees, where he could see the world and jump, testing increasingly better wings. All his projects, but learned from his Aunt Urura, a mechanimaster. "An art little valhued," she said.
"Valued," Niquitt corrected, but only in thought. He did not want to offend his aunt, who is always spending so much time with her inventions. It was common for her to get bogged down with words once in a while.
Niquitt was fast and persistent. After many precarious prototypes dominated the art of short flight. "It's more like falling slowly" - warned Gofuros, owner of the parts store.
"Maybe, but it's an elegant fall" - the boy argued.
Over time, it became increasingly an art of winning large distances very quickly. Of course, there was all the work of climb to the treetops. But in a world where tall trees were not lacking, the locals learned very well how to get up there pretty quickly. Mechanimasters, Architengineers, and Woodmancers of all the villages. From there to the Great Rift. They worked with ropes, ladders, weights, and pulleys. They created all kinds of elevators, hooks, zip lines and bridges.
In fact, ever since Niquitt knew about himself, he was already hanging on branches and climbing trees.
From the top, as he glides, Niquitt could see the shortcuts created by the undumar in their trek through the woods. He saw the great Stream with its winding stretch that traced the ground as if it were a huge serpent. The kid alternated views, time to see the ground, time to fly through the forest, dodging the trunks and branches of the high forest. After so many jumps he was already quite skilled.
"If I caught a stream of hot air, I might be able to stretch the flight further," - he thought.
An interesting test for his new wing. He decided to slide out of the thicker forest, following the course of the Stream, where the stony ground had prevented the total control of the forest. From there, he found the lower part of the wall of the Mad Raven, a large rock that formed a dangerous precipice. It was the first fall of the waterfall that the Stream formed.
As expected, the pocket of hot air coming from below propelled his wings upward. The boy is light, almost stingy. With his wings of fiber and wood of almost thirteen feet of wingspan, he offered little resistance to the air.
Little resistance too much!
As he projected himself over the precipice, the force of the hot air actually lifted, but it also unbalanced him. In a flash, the boy had to deal with a strong spin that drastically deviated him from his route ... heading straight for Raven's wall.
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