It should all start with the wood. I notice that we have carvers down here in the pendent, so I only need to try out what wood serves my needs best. To do that, I need to try and experiment.

"Kotengu," I call as soon as I collected all the carving tools stored in the sewing pendance. "What wood branches do you think are light and strong?"

Kawk!

"No, no, I mean strong strong. Like, I can hang on to the thing, strong."

Kawk!

"That's fair. Yeah, yeah, you've never been me, I guess there's no way you can really tell. What about the ones you think you can pick up? Something you can comfortably fly with?"

Kawk?

"Yeah. I'll let you decide. Please?"

Kawk!

Kotengu flies outside to explore the pendent.

Okay. Kotengu handles the wood while I handle the carving, so now I need the rope. Something strong, something that's also pretty tense and doesn't stretch in case I burst out in a strong tug all at once. So the same material as my sling, basically, but maybe thicker. It'll take a while to make, but that's better than sitting on idle hands.

That's all I need. I start working on the rope.

I work on it the exact same way as the sling. I build the strands first, making sure they're strong and solid. I put them together, making sure they stay rigid. I try pulling them with both arms, as hard as I can, as suddenly as I can—it doesn't snap. Good.

I lengthen it again a fair bit. Something twice its original length. I tie the two lengths with a knot, and work on yet another length. Should I go for a fourth length, too? Maybe I should. Each length I made is about one forearm long, so at around three lengths it's already around my height. If I make another set, it'll be twice my height ... but it'll also be heavier. And it can tangle in various different ways. I don't want that to happen, if possible.

Okay, maybe fourth length is good, but I'll stop there for now until I can be sure this idea works.

Right on time, as the sun creeps closer to the horizon, Kotengu returns with a few branches from different trees, each one almost two fingers thick. It's time to get carving.

I remember reading this in the juhi: there's an animal, living low down here and slightly overlapping with a few lower strata of winged people civilizations ... I forgot its name. The animal is slim, winged (unsurprising), and it has a tail as long as its own body length—a tail that ends in a bone shaped like a hook. Takamatsu Village sometimes traded goods for hooks made from those bones. The hooks themselves have a lot of domestic use, but that animal gave me an idea.

These animals use these hooks to hang, upside down, on the branches of the trees they live in. Okay, not precisely hang, maybe, since they hang by grabbing the branches with their feet; but they coil their tails around the branch for support—in case their claws relax when they fall asleep, they would still hang there with their tails, thanks to the hook on the tip keeping their bodies secure.

... huh, why did I remember that specifically? There's something special about that animal's feet that makes me think they're weird, enough to make me remember that detail.

Anyway, a long tail with a hook that helps them hang on trees. My idea is this: I need to fly. I can somewhat do that with the korowai Kura gave me now. However, to use that, I need to get to a high place first. I can climb things, but it takes time, and not every surface can be climbed.

So, what if I skip over that process entirely? Make myself a climbable surface that can be used anywhere there's somewhere higher than me so that I can climb up any time, under any condition, as long as I have my whole body intact.

Oh, and as long as I have a surface for my legs, maybe.

See, from watching animals, I can tell that climbing on all fours is much faster than just using my arms and my legs in turn. If my idea holds....

The sun finally touches the horizon, far there where the Cloud Blanket ends, and it's around this time that I finish my first hook with one of the branches Kotengu gave me. Kura hollers from the opening, signaling the end of fieldwork for today. I'll have to pick up the rest tomorrow.

So, this night, I let myself eat proper dinner and take a good rest. It's been a while since I can properly sleep, after all. For some reason, ever since I came here, I find that I can shut my eyes without seeing any of the faces from Takamatsu Village. I could rest without feeling the winds on my skin, even though this place is way windier than Takamatsu Village. I could sleep without feeling like there's something behind me. In fact, as far as I've been here, I think I've only looked back once.

Something about Kura's presence, about how Misaki onee-san talks, about the way the Fallen bond, feels very different from Takamatsu Village. Kura is supposed to be a creature of the lower strata. The Fallen are supposed to be evil—even Misaki onee-san warned me as such.

But nothing about being around them like this makes me feel like I would be hurt. Nothing in the air here makes me feel a chill on my spine. Nothing about these people scream harm, and nothing here is out to hurt me.

Here, I can close my eyes and fall to sleep.

I don't remember the last time I slept with no dreams at all.

As the next day comes around, after a nice breakfast, I make my way back to the sewing pendance to continue working on my hooks. Kotengu brought three, I'm not sure from what trees, but these are—as I requested of him—branches he would feel comfortable flying with, and they should at least seem strong enough for me to hang onto.

By lunch, I've nearly finished with my second hook. The wood was much softer than the first, and scraping the thing off did not take as much effort. As the sun sets, I nearly finish with the third.

By the next morning, I have all three hooks ready. Time for the test.

"It's easy!" I say to Kotengu as I tie my rope to the first hook. "You just fly as high as this rope lets you. I'll hold on to one end. You fly with the other end. Then you get that hooked somewhere safe enough so I don't fall when I climb the rope. Simple!"

Kotengu nods, caws, and immediately takes to the sky with the hook in his claws. As planned, I hold on to the other end of the rope. He heads to a tree with many big branches up top, throws my hook onto one of the branches, and I pull it down on that timing.

The hook holds. Good job!

Kawk!

With that, I jump as I pull as hard as I can.

It gets me off the ground quickly. I throw my other hand up on the rope before I feel my body fall slightly, throwing me hard against the tree stem. I kick on the stem, forcing myself up by one more step, and I throw my arm up again to catch the rope higher, and higher, and higher—

CRACK.

Ah.

I don't know what snapped, but I know that I find myself on the ground less than a second later.

And my head hurts.

Ugh. Come to think of it, my back hurts, too. I can't even breathe and there's no air left in my lungs from the fall—

Wait, I can't breathe. I can't breathe—

Gaaaaasp.

Just as the corners of my eyes start to water and my sight starts to blur, my chest remembers again how to breathe. My head doesn't feel good....

"Miyako!"

That raspy voice ... Kura?

I try to get up to get a look around, since I can't see her at all, but my body refuses to listen. I can feel my fingertips. I can feel my muscles tighten. I just can't move, for some reason.

"Misaki!" Kura calls—she uses her hollering voice, and the call echoes throughout the pendent. "Bandage!"

Not long after, I can hear hurried steps on clawed feet. I recognize the breathing as the same Misaki onee-san usually does after hard labor like toiling the fields. "Kura-san!"

"Bandage Miyako!"

I hear a soft gasp. I still can't see either Kura or Misaki onee-san. Then Misaki onee-san's worried face comes into sight, her expression shaded by the bright sun behind her. I can't really tell what that expression is, but if I'm to make a wild guess, I'd say that's worry.

Wait. Worry?

Bandage....

What?

Kawk!

I think Kotengu just said it hurts.

What hurts...?

It isn't until Misaki onee-san starts softly lifting my head that I feel what's wrong.

My head feels cold.

... no. Not my head. My scalp. The back of my head. That part hidden under my hair. The skin there feels cold. It's not painful or anything, but it feels so weird.

Then, very tenderly, Misaki onee-san starts wrapping bandage around my head, touching the spot that feels cold for some reason.

It stings.

I jolt a little, my muscles finally working like they're supposed to for once, and Misaki onee-san apologizes under her breath.

"I can get some of the herbs," she says. "Bring her to my pendance."

Kura—now finally in my sight—grabs my body with both her clawed feet and suddenly takes off on a flight, directly back to the totara thicket.

Everything that happened after feels like a blur. Or maybe it really was a blur. We landed on a pendance I've never walked into. Something behind my head feels cold—again—and I feel a pull, a push, a relaxation, a few more pulls, and everything stops. My head gets bandaged again.

"Do not," Kura whispers, "do that again."

I turn to her. Her expression is still the very same worry. "I must fly."

I clench my korowai. Kura seems to notice that.

To my surprise, she raises one of her legs and slowly pats my head, very tenderly, ever so slightly away from my bandage.

"Then fly," she says, "but careful."

Misaki onee-san makes a very loud ruckus to make sure I stay and take a rest that day. She also gives me some extra herbs for my meals, and she pats my head more than usual. I'm not really sure what's wrong. Kotengu just hints every now and then with an ouch that I don't really understand, the same it hurts he signaled back when I just fell from that hook climb.

And I've only tested the first hook....

What snapped? What happened? Where did it fail? Where's my rope? Oh, wait, was it the rope? Was the hook okay? Was the tree fine?

"Many things to check," I murmur. Misaki onee-san seems to be still very frantic, but she lets me return to where I fell. That's when I finally understand why both Kura and Misaki onee-san seemed to panic so much—there's a puddle of blood right there.

I touch my bandage. Huh.

Ouch, says Kotengu.

Maybe I fell a little harder than I thought.

My rope hook is still by the tree, and I can finally confirm what snapped: it was the hook. I pick it up and try snapping the rope again a few times on a few different points—no problems with the rope. I send Kotengu up to check the branch he hooked my rope hook to, and he returns reporting that the branch looks fine.

Hook One is a failure. Time to test the other two.

"After you rest!" Misaki onee-san scolds me after I reported my plans to her and Kura over dinner. "You rest tomorrow, and if nothing goes wrong, then you can practice again. But you rest!"

Kura nods in agreement. I groan. When am I going to go back up?

"Kawk!" After you rest, Kotengu said.

Ugh. Not you, too.

*

My recovery went well. In two days, I no longer feel any pain, and Misaki onee-san decided I could take my bandage off. After one more day, she cleared me of anything wrong and warned me again to be careful before I take off to test my hooks.

Before continuing my tests, I have one more issue to address: my fall.

I failed to make opening my korowai a reflex. I didn't even think of my korowai when I fell from the tree. I need to always keep in mind that I'm finally wearing something that allows me to fly, and I need to make a habit out of using this thing.

It shouldn't be too hard. I mean, I got the hang of using my sling after just failing once, right? How hard can it be?

To practice this, I need to be able to let myself fall, enough of a distance in the air so that the korowai can turn rigid, but I also need to still fall from a safe distance. You know, so my head doesn't split and splat a lot of blood like last time if I fail to use my cloak again. After arguing with my good little bird, we finally agreed on setting my climb at around twice my body height. At that level, I shouldn't break anything if I naturally fall, and I should still have enough air time for my korowai to do its thing.

Oh, my back will also be facing the ground when I climb up using my rope hook, so I need to learn to kick the tree to launch myself to the ground.

The only difference now is that I have Kura to oversee my training. Misaki onee-san works the fields and sews the threads by the day, so she couldn't help me with it; Kura, however, only looks after everyone for her day job, so she decided to look after me. She would help me climb up, imitating the role of my rope hook, and she would catch me if I failed to turn my korowai into wings on time.

So I hold on to Kura's extended finger and start climbing up the tree.

I climb, I climb, and—

That's the height marker.

I kick.

As I let go of Kura's finger, I try turning my body around so that I face the ground directly. Now I must—

Whoop.

Kura catches me by the stomach, and by the moment I realize what happened, my face was already five fingers away from the ground.

My heart jumps to my throat.

... yeah, no. Not fast enough.

Again.

Again, I climb. Again, I pass the marker.

Again, I jump.

Whoop.

Still around five fingers away.

Again.

And again.

And again—

Whoop.

"Do I need to go higher?" I ask Kura. She tilts her head.

"Try," she says softly.

So I try.

Again.

I climb, I climb, and—

That's the height marker.

I climb higher.

I climb, I climb, and—

I'm now at thrice my body height. Kura still holds me up carefully with her finger. Here should be good.

I kick.

As I let go of Kura's finger, I try turning my body around so that I face the ground directly.

Now I open my korowai.

WHAP.

Once more, I am five fingers away from the ground. This time, it's not my face.

It's my legs.

I barely managed to process what just happened—the tugging on my chest, the slow descent ... and my feet touch the ground.

I gasp.

"I—"

"You did it!"

Kura comes swooping down with a massive grin that would have been terrifying if not for the fact that I know how kind her eyes were. She nearly crashes onto me, but slows down in time with a powerful flap that blows winds everywhere across the ground.

... like Gekka.

Twitch.

"Kawk." Miyako, wait.

That was Kotengu.

A sense of calmness washes over my mind. Something almost as cold as when my head bled out, something as kind as the slow headpats Kura gave me just yesterday.

The winds were harsh, but they did not push me away.

This is not like Gekka.

Kura is not like Gekka.

I sigh, and take a deep breath. Not like Gekka.

Kura lands, still grinning, and carefully ruffles my hair with her foot. "Good job!"

That smile is definitely not like Gekka. I smile right back. "Thank you."

"Try again," she says. "Habit. Train."

She's right. I still controlled all my movements. I have to make this a habit, a reflex, something I do without thinking.

I suppose it's time to climb back up and again, and maybe truly learn to fly.

*

With Kura helping me train my reflexes, I feel like I finally grow ready to test my hooks again. Or, at least, that's assuming my hook doesn't break until after I climb my own body height. Oh, yeah, I managed to train myself to finally use the korowai at that falling height, although I still can't get the cloak to harden at any lower heights. Though, to be very fair, I don't think I need korowai to keep me afloat any lower than that, I'm used to jumping around that height. As long as nothing goes wrong, I should be able to handle it just fine.

And with that out of the way, Hook Two.

I take whatever remained of Hook One off the rope and tie the loose end to Hook Two. Still no idea what wood this is, but it feels so light. Much lighter than the other two hooks. However, the surface does feel pretty rigid. Can it even hold my weight?

I raise my eyebrows at Kotengu, and he just caws a you can now fly if you fall in return.

So I tie the hook up to the rope.

The tests went much more smoothly than three days ago. To my surprise, the hook did actually manage to hold up my body weight: a few times, I even got myself up to the branch where the hook was ... well, hooked. And, from there, I kick, I jump, and I float down with my cloak.

Problems only started happening after the fifth fly down. Out of nowhere, the rope I climbed suddenly dropped by two whole fingers' thickness. By the sixth attempt, another two fingers. That can't be good.

By the seventh, I didn't jump to fly. I climbed right up to the branch and retrieved my hook.

My fears were right: my hook was cracking loose, and it was hanging on by its last fibers. Another climb, and it would have broken.

... that's it for Hook Two, I guess.

I float back down to exchange it for Hook Three. Here's to hoping third time's the charm.

The tests with Hook Three went much faster than Hook Two. While the wood was heavier, it was also notably softer than the first two, and it broke in no time at all.

So now I'm all out of wood, and my best hope for survival is something that breaks after seven uses.

"Kotengu—have you got any other wood types you can try?"

"Kawk!" If you have any.

After dinner, I decided to talk about this to Kura and Misaki onee-san, but they shrug, too.

"We never made hooks," Misaki onee-san says. "I'm not sure what kind of wood you'll need ... I think the three hooks you showed are already made from the kind of wood you described you wanted. I'd have gone with those woods, too."

Tonight, rather than preparing for tomorrow's training or experiments, I decide to try and figure out what to do with just one hook for approximately seven uses each. If an emergency arises, I'll have to have something to replace that hook with. That means I'll also need to bring the tools I used to create the hooks, assuming the sewing Fallen would allow me.

I lay down on my bedding sheet in the pendance, preparing to sleep. The bedding is nice, I wonder if they have a particular kind of fiber for this. Was this farmed from the fields? The same one Misaki onee-san said was used for something more flexible? It felt different, maybe it was knitted a different way....

The skies are dark, but the moons are bright tonight, so I can see the ceiling. Kura has curled up in her own corner of the pendance, covering herself with her wings, keeping herself warm.

Knitted a different way....

Kura's wings....

Wait a second.

Kura's wings. With those fingers. Kura never used those fingers to hold things like I do with my hands. Not even like the winged people with their hands, really. The wings and the arms are two different pairs of limbs for winged people, but they're one and the same for Kura, and she'd only ever used her wings to walk on all fours, to fly, and....

I can see the ceiling....

Those hanging bars.

She used her wing's fingers to hang on to those bars. She used her feet like I use my hands, but while she's inside the pendance, she hung on to those bars to keep herself stable.

Meaning those bars have been supporting Kura's weight for ... I have no idea how long, now.

... huh. Maybe Kotengu saw the totara trees and just thought they were homes to Kura and the Fallen, so he didn't think of using its branches?

I'll have to ask Kura about those bars tomorrow.

*