It wished it could put its wings down.
Or rather, once again.
It was convinced that the only thing worse than being placed under a spell was being placed under a spell while one’s appendages were … well … spread-eagled.
Sure, the effect of petrifaction was dramatic. Everyone liked a good statue. What everyone conveniently forgot (for any educated person would have read about Narnia) was that most statues that appeared life-like were actually … petrified.
In every sense of the word.
You try holding your pee for that long. And let’s not even talk about kidney stones.
Or last year’s meal, still lodged.
And yet, it was the perpetual taking off that rankled more than anything. The anticipatory knots in the back of the shoulders. The wind’s lift that refused to take hold.
It was a relief when the earthquake broke a wing.
One down. One to go.