Hoala stood on the brink of the mountain peak and opened her arms wide to her sides.
Marnie saw now what Hoala’s clothing had concealed. She had pale green webbing underneath her arms, like the flesh-covered wings of a bat.
Hoala pitched herself forward and fell through the air. Then she beat her wings and rose again.
Marnie forgot her own insistent compulsion for the moment. She just wanted to stand where she was and watch Hoala fly. It wasn’t how Marnie did it at all. Hoala was elegant and languid, with her winged arms open wide to the cold wind. She seemed to soar along effortlessly. She barely had to stroke the air to maintain altitude. She glided wherever she wanted with just the smallest angling of her arms, out over the tops of the forest, down toward the icy stream, back up to t
