“I’ll fly back,” Russet said. Now that he didn’t have to slow down to follow the squab, Nickle, he could use all of the power he had in his barrel chest. Which was a lot. He was a pigeon, and they were the fastest and strongest fliers alive.
He didn’t even bring the sun into account. Probably a poor decision, but Russet was very spontaneous.
~
Riski soared above the line of trees, flying faster and easier. The more space he put between himself and the trees, the better he felt. This time, Fish Sticks could fly about as well as he could, since he didn’t have the prevailing winds to propel him from the see. Indeed, he would do better than most albatrosses in this situation due to their weight and long, slim wings, but Riski had many years practice since he was an official meddler, fugitive, and associate in too many places to count, some being pretty far from the shore.
“Where do the gulls like to congregate?”
(Bagel Bite. Apparently his species is a black-headed type gull. I had no idea he was until recently. My only excuse is... pigeons can tell no gulls apart, even the super obvious ones.)
Moonlight closed her eyes when the stress attacked her and sighed, which is always a poor decision when you’re flying. She narrowly missed an entire tree-trunk.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll leave him behind. He won’t get far, he’ll get eaten soon, or found by ravens, sitting on the ground like that.” But that was what she said when she injured him the last time. But now she was more sure she had truly lamed him. “I’ll tell General One-Toe the bad news.” That the whole mission was a total bust. “And I’ll put in a good word for you,” she added.