Islena munched away on some more trail rations that she’d dug up from somewhere while watching the boy meditate by the stream. He’s an odd one, she thought.

A distinctive whistle brought her sharply out of her idle thoughts, sending her scampering down to the stream to rudely prod Jack out of his trance. A finger over her lips indicating that he needed to be silent - well, as silent as a clumsy boy could be - she basically dragged him the short distance back to the camp.

“What’s going on?” Jack said softly, looking around to see what had spooked his hostess.

“Sit!” Islena hissed at him while pointing to where he’d been seated earlier, before starting to dismantle the camp in a practiced manner.

In less than a minute she had both tents dismantled and loaded onto the backs of what, at first, looked like ponies. Jack hadn’t paid much attention to them earlier, as they had been standing almost eerily still on the far side of the tents from where he'd arrived from.

Wings, huh? I guess that’s why they were laughing when I asked about a boat, Jack thought.

Islena was still packing up the few belongings that were scattered around the erstwhile campsite when Jack heard a distinctly feline howl in the distance.

Seconds later, Iroh came sprinting out of the woods - even at speed he’d managed to keep himself hidden from Jack, and silent. He headed straight for Jack, barely pausing as he grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him with a grunted “Up.”

Jack flailed a bit as Iroh carried on his sprint to the larger of the two beasts, unceremoniously depositing Jack on its back, just behind the folded wings.

“What’s happening?” Jack hissed as he tried to adjust his seating, grabbing on to the pony’s mane to keep himself steady.

“Rangers” was the only reply he got from Iroh, catching a flung sack out of the air as he reached the other beast, quickly tying it on.

Jack gripped the mane even harder as Islena easily jumped up behind him, reaching around him to take hold of a slim rope that seemed to serve as reins.

“Hup” came a soft grunt from the girl as she lightly kicked the flanks of the pony, which responded by taking off like an arrow. She guided the pony towards the stream where there was the only real gap in the woods.

Streaking along at a breakneck pace, the pony’s wings unfurled in the available space. Jack hadn’t had a chance to really think about how it would fly with such small wings, but once they extended with the snapping of taut leather the pony’s wings were truly impressive.

He risked a glance behind him, seeing the sight of Iroh spurring on his own steed as it also spread its wings.

A loud yowling snapped his attention from the sight. Behind Iroh, he could see rapid movement in the trees to either side of the stream. Several figures streaking along on all fours, and rapidly gaining!

The pony under him gave a lurch as it flapped its wings - once, twice - and started to pull away from the ground. It should have been the experience of a lifetime…

Shit! What the fuck are those? Faster. FASTER!

Jack didn’t have time to savour the experience of flying at the moment. He’d managed to have a good look at their pursuers, and what he saw was the terrifying sight of what looked like house cats - if house cats grew to be the size of a large man, and were into wearing light, flexible leather armour.

The trio on ponyback were gaining altitude rapidly, but any thoughts of safety were soon dashed when the leading cats - no, Rangers - simply started bounding up the nearest tree trunks with an agility that matched their speed.

One of them decided that he was near enough, and launched itself at Iroh, aiming to take down man and beast with the jump.

Iroh’s arm blurred, and the assaillant managed to twist itself in midair to bat away what turned out to be a small dagger, thrown so hard and fast that Jack hadn’t even seen it.

With the Ranger off balance and tumbling from it's defensive maneuver, a flap of the pony’s wings was just enough to carry itself and it’s passenger out of immediate danger.

And the Ranger’s explosive speed seemed to come at a price, more and more of them being forced to give up the chase as their stamina gave out, with only yowls of frustration and rude gestures to send after the escaping party.

A few more of the cats tried to launch themselves at their prey, but they had soon exceeded the height of the trees and the attempts all fell well short.

Jack was still staring over his shoulder at the scene behind, mouth agape, when a loud and unexpected “Woohoo, what a rush!” right next to his ear brought him back to the present. And he could see that Iroh was smiling.

“You people are crazy!” he retorted as he spun to face forward, knuckles white from his grip on the mane. His eyes immediately started watering as the wind of their passage bit into them, leaving him temporarily blind as they steadily rose into the air. A giggle was his only answer.

Unable to wipe his streaming eyes, Jack had to lower his head to avoid the worst of the wind while he tried to blink them clear. After a lot of blinking and managing a few wipes on his forearms, he finally managed to see again.

Head down, his first view was of the pony’s whipping mane, the nearest part of it’s slowly beating wings and the movement of muscles in it’s shoulders. And past that, beneath them, clouds. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why this last detail bothered him.

The biting wind was alleviated a short while later as the pony assumed a slower flight, allowing Jack to raise his head a little and look around, squinting. To his right, he saw Iroh sitting proudly on his steed, unbothered by the wind or the recent near death experience.

And clouds.

Then it dawned on him. “Where did the clouds come from?” he asked stupidly. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky when this mad rush started, I’m sure of it.

“These clouds are always here, silly boy.” Jack could actually feel that Islena was shaking her head at him as she answered his blurted question.

“But…” Jack was interrupted by the pony banking sharply, causing him to focus on his seating and his grip on the mane.

Jack tried desperately to see what had prompted this change in direction, or at least where they were headed.

“Oh. I see” was all he could manage as he took in the view. Below him, and in all directions, was indeed a carpeting of clouds. And in front of him was the Island, stretching off to the sides - but most importantly it was just hanging there. The top covered in the familiar woods, the bottom looking like a small-scale mountain range that had been overturned.