L

"I love it when they do that," Iremacht whispered to his father when he peered over his shoulder at Mandara. "His wings are incredible."

"Well now I'm jealous," Wehrmacht teased. "My poor drab wings feel unloved."

Iremacht elbowed him. "Shush, Dad. You know you'll always be the best to me."

The teen broke off with a yawn that made his father smile. By the time they reached the house, Iremacht was swaying on his feet and Wehrmacht had a hand around his son's shoulder to keep him upright.

M

Mandara chuckled as he over heard the Germans talking, MA then slowed down to walk besides his brother, who in turn closed his wings to make room for MA.

"I swear it's like they forget I have wings too," MA playfully said, "are mine not good enough for them?"

Mandara nudged MA, "don't be silly Thunder, I'm sure they like your wings too."

MA hummed in response but said nothing further. When the group reached Wehr's house, MA noticed how Mandara was eyeing the star filled sky, "You want to fly don't you."

Mandara nodded, "I do, but you know I can't last long in the air, and besides, I would rather do it with you."

MA put a hand on Mandara's shoulder, "I'm sure your wings can handle a few minutes of gliding, and don't let me stop you, go have fun."

Mandara stared at MA for a second then smiled, "Thanks Thunder, I'll be back."

Then he ran off to a more open area and took to the skies.

MA walked up to Wehr and Iremacht, "Just a heads up guys, Trigger decided to do a quick fly around, he should be back in a few minutes."

L

Wehrmacht looked out at the night sky too and his wings twitched. Iremacht felt the tremor of feathers and blinked up at his father. Even in his groggy state, he could tell Wehrmacht wanted to join Mandara in the air.

"As long as you don't pull an all-nighter, Dad," Iremacht said, trudging into the house. "I can tuck myself in. Come on, MA, I'll show you how my paintball stash and then go to bed."

Wehrmacht got his son's message and smiled gratefully, "Danke, you're the best."

He took off into the air, his black wings blending into the dark sky. He was retired after all. Flight was finally an option.

M

Mandara didn't notice Wehrmacht take off after him, he was too busy enjoying the cool night air blow around him. He didn't usually fly often so when he did, he would typically glide on the air currents, it was a bit tricky for him since his wings were built for speed not soaring, but it maximized his time in the air before his wings would tire. At one point he did a few twirls, but that was the only tricks he was comfortable doing, so he just continued to glide, completely unaware that someone wanted to join him.

L

Wehrmacht remembered last time that he'd snuck up behind MA and MA had nearly shot him. He didn't want to scare Mandara since he seemed to be enjoying himself, so Wehrmacht simply followed him. The German took the moment to enjoy the wind along his feathers and find a comfortable current to ride on slightly underneath Mandara. The city lights twinkled from below. 

Finally, Wehrmacht decided to push forward so he was directly under Mandara. He flipped around and said, "Wonderful weather, isn't it?"

M

"Jesus!" Mandara exclaimed.

He flapped a bit to get away from the person underneath him, but relaxed when he saw it was Wehr, he then hovered in place, "Holy moly Wehrmacht, you almost gave me a heart attack." He grabbed his chest as if to prove a point, before adding, "We need to get you a bell or something, because from what Thunder told me, you seem to enjoy sneaking up on people."

L

"I tried my best not to this time," Wehrmacht said, also hovering. "You looked happy gliding peacefully so I didn't disturb you for a while."

He glanced over his shoulder at the way they had come. Despite the refreshing feeling of wind through his feathers, he still had work to do and would probably end up pulling an all-nighter, contrary to what his son said.

"My son admires your wings," Wehrmacht said. "Judging by their shape, they look like high-speed wings. How about we race back? Gives me a chance to prove myself to Iremacht if I win." He said that last part good-naturedly but also as a friendly challenge.

M

Mandara face fell at the mention of racing.

"I don't know Wehrmacht, I may have high-speed wings, but I can't really fly that fast. My wings never completely healed from when they were broken, whenever I fly too fast or for too long they will start to hurt. When you were chasing me it really put a strain on my wings, had I not of landed when I did and tried to fly to that park, I would have without a doubt fallen out of the air."

L

Wehrmacht was shocked to hear that explanation. He hadn't realized that was the real reason Mandara hid on the rooftop and instantly felt bad for putting so much unintended pressure on his wings.

"I see," Wehrmacht said. "In that case, I'm sorry about that whole fiasco. We should head back, I don't want your wings to tire out before we get home."

Wehrmacht dove towards his house, smirking over his shoulder. "I'd rather not have to carry you bridal style - I'll save that for Poland."

M

"Hey!" Mandara shouted after him, somehow that comment sparked up his competitive side and now he wanted to make it to the house first to teach Wehr a lesson. "Well if it's a fight you want, then it's a fight your gonna get."

And with that, he put on a burst of speed and flew after Wehrmacht, quickly passing him. He knew this was a bad idea, but they didn't fly too far so he was sure he could make it there before his wing tired out.

L

"Oh, back in the game huh?" Wehrmacht called as Mandara passed him.

The German beat his wings and launched himself forward. Mandara was exceptionally fast, however, and Wehrmacht just couldn't overtake him no matter how hard he flew. Those high-speed wings were really something, he thought. No wonder Iremacht loved them - speed was great for attack and Iremcaht was more of an attacker than defender type. At the thought of his son, Wehrmacht tucked in his wings for greater speed, gaining on Mandara's heels.

M

Mandara looked behind him to see if Wehrmacht was following, and was surprised to see him gaining fast.  He was confused at how someone with soaring wings was going so fast, but as Wehr drew closer, Mandara saw that he had tucked in his wings to pick up speed, which he didn't notice before since Wehrmacht's black feathers blended in to the night sky.  Mandara then decided to pull a page out of Wehr's own book and too tucked in his wings, occasionally flapping them again to gain even more speed.

L

When Wehrmacht saw Mandara tuck in his wings for a steeper dive, the German knew it was over. He couldn't beat a diving, high-speed bird - that was like a hawk challenging a peregrine falcon. As they neared the ground, Wehrmacht finally flung open his wings to ease the descent and slowly lowered himself. He was disappointed at first, but that was quickly replaced by pride for Mandara. Despite those damaged wings, the Mandarian had still given a try to the challenge and won.

"Impressive," Wehrmacht said.

M

Mandara smiled at Wehr when he landed, it wasn't a smug smile at the fact that he won, it was a genuine smile of pride at the German's complement. "Thanks, you weren't so bad yourself, I admit if it was a longer race you could have beaten me, even if my wings were at their peak."

He then flapped his wings a few times to see how the race effected them, there was a tiny muscle sore in one of them, but they were fine otherwise.  After he tested his wings, he decided to get Wehr back for teasing him about Poland carrying him bridal style. "To bad Iremacht isn't out here, it would have been interesting to see his face after I beat you."

L

"Shush," Wehrmacht grumbled. "Off to bed with you."

The house was quiet when he stepped back inside. Wehrmacht guessed his son must've gone to bed already; otherwise there would be plenty of noise. "I guess this is good night," Wehrmacht said to Mandara. "I hope you sleep well since it's your last night here."

M

"Guess it is" Mandara agreed, "Thank you again for letting us stay here for the night, I'll see you tomorrow."

He then walked off to the spare bedroom, brushing Wehr's wing on the way.  Mandara quietly open the door just in case MA was already sleeping, which he was.  Mandara quietly changed out of his uniform and climbed into bed, trying to be careful not to wake MA, however once he was settled, MA covered his brother with his wing, though he didn't open his eyes.  Mandara smiled at MA before closing his eyes and also falling asleep.

L

Wehrmacht tiptoed upstairs to check on Iremacht. His son was sprawled on his bed, one foot sticking off the edge. Wehrmacht gently tucked the foot back under the blankets, kissed his son's forehead, and exited the room. He went to his own bedroom and retrieved his work laptop - ah yes, gone were the days of pen and paper. Wehrmacht sat on his bed, leaning against his trusty Irish flag pillow, and started his all-nighter finishing up the Crown procedures. He worked until the morning light seeped through the curtains of his window.