Chapter 7: Strange Wings, Strange World
Kivas pulled herself out of the shallow crater with a grunt, brushing loose soil from her tangled hair and glancing around.
The world she found herself in was soaked with heavy, humid air. The scent of moss and strange pollen clogged her senses. Plant life sprawled endlessly in every direction—lush, overwhelming, and dark. The leaves were deeper than green, some teetering toward shades of black and bruised violet, swaying with a sluggish, wet sort of grace.
Every trunk, vine, and root seemed to breathe in the mist.
Kivas squinted, one hand shading her face. Even with the thick canopy overhead, her halo still burned brightly atop her head, shedding gold-tinged illumination like a living torch. It fluttered and hissed faintly against the moisture.
"Great," she muttered, pressing a palm against her forehead. "If there's anything out there, they can probably see me from five kilometers away."
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
She flexed her wings cautiously, feeling the feathery appendages rustle against the dense air.
"Ah right, I have wings now, for some reason."
The thought of having them was so curious, that she tried to take it for a ride.
"Hup!"
The motion of the wings was surprisingly smooth. Standing on the tall protruding root of one of the giant trees, she took a leap of faith.