the sky is deceptively clear, yet the wind howls across the lonely moor.

The girl takes plodding steps forward, buffeted by it's force. She's staring down at the grass, focusing on walking through the wind.

It feels nice, this wind. Oddly nice, nicer than she feels it probably should be. She's always liked windy days; but this wind, beneath a blue sky flecked with small, rapidly moving clouds on a calm dry-season day, is more than just a passing comfort. It soothes her, calms her oft troubled heart.

She stops walking, closes her eyes, feels the air wash over her. Without thinking, she shrugs off her jacket partway, letting her shoulders and sides face into the wind. It feels wonderful, blowing through her light undershirt onto her skin. And where it blows over her sides and past her back, she begins to feel a strange, cool sensation; as if there were something extending from her sides, catching the wind.

Somehow, she doesn't question this strange feeling. It's unusual, but strangely familiar, strangely calming. She extends her arms outwards, and feels the wind. Tilting her head back, she opens her eyes -

And she realizes just how open and wide the sky is.

It's beautiful. A blue, cloud-specked infinity. Arching over the whole world, shared by all places on this planet. A bridge to everywhere.

The place where she belongs.

The short, sharp feeling grows stronger, accompanied by short, sharp sparks of pain. A heat rises in her chest, accompanying the cooling sensation of the wind. Holding her hand against the sky, she is surprised at the sight of black claws, red scales, growing and spreading. Her posture starts to change; the world around her starts to shrink. But still, she is entranced by the sight of the sky.

She's somewhat cognizant of the feeling snaking out of her spine, the sudden new weight stop her head, the fact her hands are all of a sudden planted in the moor-grass, the ripping sound as her clothes fall away in the face of her growing form. But all of those become secondary, distant, in comparison to the sensations radiating from her back.

New limbs, different from her arms nor legs, and yet somehow, it's as if she's had them her whole life. She takes a deep breath, revels in the wonderful feeling of wind upon them. She crouches down, still gazing at the sky, and opens them.

The feeling of the wind blowing across these new appendages is indescribably wonderful. Every current, every little vortex in the moving air, is felt upon them. Her mind, even so lost in the changes she is experiencing, knows how to interpret that information; it's as if she's regained a missing sense. She knows how to angle them, the precise direction from which the wind blows... and that it's strong enough to carry her aloft.

She opens these appendages - these wings, undeniable in their magnificence - to their full span; at the corners of her vision - now somewhat wider than they it was before, now that she thinks about it - she sees their leading edges, and her heart skips a beat.

She knows how to angle them. Like so, and with a gentle flap -

She feels her hands and feet - no, paws leave the earth. She feels her wings billow and buffet as they catch the headwind, and the sensation of rising. She flaps two more times, powerful downstrokes that lead her higher and higher. And her heart soars even further than her body.

Only now does she truly begin to realize what just happened. Something with odd metaphysical implications; something she had heard of in one or two fairy tales. Many would call this a curse; even she would normally expect to be more scared, more uncomfortable, of the changes happening to her.

But instead she feels only joy, and a deep, all encompassing comfort. She sees the world laid out below her - the moor, the lakes, the forests. A tapestry of places, of wonders, all within her reach, a simple tilt of the wings away. An ultimate freedom, an incredible peace.

She flaps her wings more, gaining speed and altitude. Glittering tears of joy fall from now-inhuman eyes. Instinctively, she lets out a deafening screech-roar, a proclamation of emotion and excitement.

A great shadow flits across the ground below, as once more the sound of dragonsong fills blue skies.