Stubborn Terms

She was thirteen when she decided to learn to fly

Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.

Divari hated being ordered about and had as long as she could recall. Most even insisted this went back further still. And since her mother was the source, she supposed it was a reliable tale.

With a woefully stubborn disposition and fiery constitution she’d refuse to learn to fly the year the other yearlings did. Nor did Divari give their taunting from above mind as she waddled about the fields. Besides, waddling had produced two delightful results.

First, setting blaze to the grasses and wafting smoke to irritate her tormenters eyes was simple. They’d learned not to fly directly overhead quickly.

Second, those same fires sent her prey scampering from their holes and made feeding a much simpler affair.

Still, she’d watched them flocking and decided she could pick her own paths. Thus, she was thirteen when she decided to learn to fly and, as was her custom, no one could convince her to take their assistance.

After her many repetitious failures, she’d only bruised tail feathers and laughter ringing in her ears to show. Then Divari admitted she probably should’ve long ago. To herself anyway.

Thus, to at least escape the laughter and ice her tail feathers, Divari found herself on Mount Kilkirien. When the abominable woke.

And not just on it, at its peak. There she learned that fire and ice do not mix, and that sometimes falling would teach you to fly. The last she confirmed after she leeping, and thankfully before she struck the rocks below.

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