When Dounia next opened her eyes, the plane had stopped moving, and something warm and sticky dripped into her eyes. Dounia wiped at it with her arm, and her sleeve came away dark with blood. She probed and winced as she found the gash across her forehead. A branch must have hit her after the shield spell around the cockpit had failed.
She looked around. Their plane was wedged in the trees. Their descent had been halted by the thickness of the branches holding them. The body of their plane was still intact, if barely. She twisted in her seat to look behind her.
“Ira,” she said urgently, trying to move around the crumpled sections of the plane. “Ira, are you there?”
A groan answered her. Ira and Meow remained in their cockpit, and Ira moved sluggishly.
“Are you okay?” Dounia asked.
“I
