The Wingless Pegasus

by CanvasWolfDoll

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Doctor Whooves, Princess Luna, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy
Length: 5025

Angelic Rush wants to fly. The fact he's an earth pony has deterred him.

Angelic Rush is an Earth Pony. He wishes he could fly. This is his journey.

Published 2011-11-17 03:02:51 UTC
Last updated 2011-11-17 13:46:50 UTC

Angelic Rush

The sky was gorgeous. Blue with only a scant few cumulous to give the full wonder of it scale. Stretching from the far horizon to the tip of the mountain whose cliff Rush now stood, it seemed to beckon. Playful pegasii glided lazily from cloud to cloud. Rush so desperately wished to join them.
“You sure this is a good idea?” His companion asked, glancing down the cliff edge wearily, “You only just got the cast off from last time.”
“I can't give up now.” Rush answered, his head turned in a more optimistic upward gaze, “I just need to reach that first cloud. How hard can it be?”
“Rush, lett's be rational about this:” The unicorn pleaded, “your wings won't work, and I'll have to drag you back to your parents, who will give me that disappointed look of theirs.”
“'Wings won't work'?” Rush was indignant, “Give me one good reason they won't.”
“You’re an earth pony, they're attached to you by wax, and you have no means to work them?” Ink Well answered, a critical eye glancing over his glasses.
Rush visibly winced at the facts, “I asked for one.” Rush edged towards the cliff. “On the other hoof, we're already here...”
“That was the reasoning that got you hospitalized last time.” Ink said, “Look, let's go home, I'll buy you a ticket for a balloon ride, and we'll call it a day.”
Rush turned his attention back to the sky. He'd taken balloon rides plenty times in the past, and they served only to feed the fire further. He's been sky-bound through every earth pony available method, but to his dying day Rush insisted it was never truly flight.
His parents were the grounded sort, co-owners of the town supply store. They had hoped their son would follow their hoofmarks, but since he was old enough to walk, he had been restless, constantly climbing on the furniture. Then he saw his first pegasus. Ever since, his eyes were locked firmly skyward. When he drew himself for class, he had wings and soared the skies. He was swiftly ostracized by the other foals, gaining friendship only with the quiet, bookish unicorn Inkwell. His parents, worried, tried everything to appease him, but no substitution worked.
Rush looked at the wings attached to his back. He looked at the sharp drop before him, considering his options. Sure, the wings had no means of actual propulsion, nor a way to operate the chicken feather coated wax, and his plan for using them hinged on the twine attaching the wings to his hoofs. He took a deep breath, and began walking away from the edge.
Inkwell exhaled a sigh of relief, and began to move to follow his friend, when Rush ran past and jumped, desperately flapping his forelegs as he became airborne. Unfortunately, the only upward momentum the eager earth pony had was from the initial kick off, the rest of the journey, after gravity began to enact its harsh control over solids surrounded by air, was rather downward. Rush’s instincts kicked in, and he flipped in the air so he was looking upwards, the wings rapidly coming apart, feathers indicating the path of his journey. The falling equine closed his eyes and, slowing his breath, tried to relax all his muscles as he attempted to aim for the trees far below.

“You okay?” The unicorn asked.
Rush opened his eyes, and took stock of his surroundings, ignoring the sharp pains coursing his body. “I don’t think I actually broke anything this time.” He slowly got onto his hooves, wincing as he made use of the more abused muscles. “Well, yet another failure.”
“Indeed.” Inkwell said, looking at the broken branches above them, “Unfortunately, I don’t think we learned anything new from this session.”
Rush laid a bruised leg over his friend’s shoulder, “Well, Ink old buddy, we can only go upward from here.” He grinned broadly.
“You say that every single time, Rush.” The unicorn responded, “You have yet to actually make any progress.”
“Nonsense!” Rush said, “I’ve certainly progressed from my first attempt!”
“Your first ‘attempt’ was going to the school roof and flapping your forelegs really hard.”
Rush smiled to himself nostalgically, “That was the first time I got a full body cast.”
“Am I the only one worried you had to clarify ‘first’ in that sentence?”
“Let’s go home.” Rush began limping towards town.

Rush was silent during dinner. His parents tried to engage him briefly, awkwardly avoiding the topic of his new scratches and bruises, before surrendering and going mute too. They’d long ago accepted such evenings as a matter of fact when their son had begun his constant quest of failure. Finishing his meal, Rush excused himself and limped upstairs.
In his room, surrounded by posters of Thunderbolts and the Sky Ballet, Rush browsed his bookshelf, packed with thick tomes on the science of flight, biographies of famous pegasi, and picture books written for pegasus foals first learning to fly. He selected the fairy tale anthology and climbed into his hammock, opening to a favorite of his.

Inkwell opened his window after the third pebble struck, rubbing exhaustion from his eyes.
“Good morning, Ink!” Rush said gleefully.
Inkwell, lifelong friend of the ill-bred pegasus, knew approximately what was happening for the rest of the day. “What's the suicide tactic today?”
“Have you ever been to Canterlot?”
Inkwell mentally paused, “Canterlot?”
“Canterlot!”
Ink blinked twice. “I've built a model,” he shook his head, “Why the interest?”
Rush bucked the air, “Pack your bags, and get bits for a train ticket, I know how to solve my problem.”
Inkwell, who considered himself the logical and intellectual component of the pair, looked at his impulsive partner. “How long will we be there for?”
Rush looked lost, “Well, that depends: how long does it take to get an audience with Princess Celestia.” Rush smiled triumphantly.
The white unicorn was dumbstruck, “We're going to Canterlot to ask Princess Celestia, ruler of ponykind and raiser of the sun, to turn you into a pegasus.”
“Yep!” the sky-hued colt beamed.
The unicorn desperately gaped for words, but couldn't quite find a start. He packed some bags with what he needed, shouldered them, and went to join Rush. “Let's try this again: you plan to go all the way to Canterlot so you can ask the Princess to give you wings?”
“Not just wings: the whole pegasus package.” Rush said, “Before, we've been trying to compromise for my heavier bones and build, and it'd be nice to walk on clouds.” Rush was rather single-minded, but it was possible that, in all of Equestria, nopony was as knowledgeable about what it meant to be a pegasus as this earth pony. “Come on, I want to catch the earliest train!”

Thankfully, by train, the Capitol was less than a day’s journey, so they didn't need to pay for use of the sleeper car. The two ponies sat in their seats, Inkwell by the aisle with his nose firmly in a book about the economic structure of ancient Discordian society (or rather, the lack thereof), while Rush took claim of the window seat, daydreaming. He remained like this until, due to a lengthy mountain stretch hiding the sky, he was jolted out. He looked around the train car. “You having fun?” he asked Inkwell.
Ink shrugged, “It's been okay. Did you know money used be backed by maple syrup?”
“Really now? What was the front made of?” Rush asked innocently.
“What?” Inkwell looked baffled at the question, “Front of what?”
Rush shrugged, “Nevermind.”
The unicorn shut his book, gently placing a marker in between the pages he was studying, “So, besides the whole royal audience thing, what are we going to be doing in Canterlot?”
“Well, they have the world’s largest ferris wheel there,” Rush suggested.
“Do they now?” Ink's voiced was void of delight.
“There's also the Canterlot Mint,” Rush said, “Maybe they'll have a few of those sticky-tailed coins on display.”
Suppressing a laugh, Inkwell nodded his head, “I'd enjoy that.”
The train left the mountain pass, and Rush's attention returned to the sky.

Canterlot was breathtaking. Rush looked in awe toward the proud towers of the city, Inkwell towards the rich decor of the architecture. “Ink,” Rush said, “I propose that we each tackle separate goals: you find us beds, and I'll get a meeting with Celestia.”
“Good luck with that,” Inkwell said sincerely as he went in search of an inn.
Rush stood, glancing around. To his displeasure., he hadn't a clue where to start. He stopped a random pedestrian, “Excuse me, m'am, do you know how I can see Princess Celestia?”
The laugh the mare broke into wasn't exactly polite, so Rush left her and tried a different subject. Pony after pony, Rush received approximately the same response. “I don't get the joke.” he said to nopony in particular as he walked the streets. He stopped in his tracks upon seeing a pair of royal guards standing at the base of the famous clock tower. Sure, they seemed rather sinister with their bat wings and grim armor, but surely they'd know. “Excuse me, sirs?” Rush galloped up to them, “May I ask you a question?”
The silent expressions of the two betrayed no emotion, so Rush took it as a sign to proceed, “I was hoping you could instruct me as how I could meet with Princess Celestia? I have this goal that only she could help me with.”
The closer guard looked the white-maned youth up and down, “I'm afraid such an appointment is by her invitation,” he answered, “She is rather busy, you see.”
Rush nodded, “Well then, how do you suggest I proceed?”
“To be honest, I suggest you make alternate plans. It's pretty difficult to get the attention of-” the guarded noticed Rush was distracted, “What're you staring at?” A spider and a sock landed on his head. He sighed as he removed them. “If you're willing to compromise, just wait there for a minute,” he said.
Rush looked at the sock rather jealously, “Are those wings?”
“Felicity, thou clumsy sock!” The doors of the clock tower swung open dramatically, “Thou must take care while engaging in ‘fun’ as to not bring harm to yourself.”
The guard holding the two lost items sighed, then held his hoof towards the alicorn of the night, “Now presenting, her royal majesty, Princess Luna, all hail.”
Luna looked at the awestruck pony before her. “It lovely to make thy acquaintance,” she said grandly. She looked at the guard, “West, while we’re here, please take note: Tia has managed to increase the number of weekly letters she receives, and we mustn’t allow her archives remain larger than our own.” She dropped her volume to that of the general populace, “I almost caught up with her too.” She looked at Rush, “Art thou still here?”
“You’re Princess Luna!” Rush announced excitedly.
The Moon Princess glanced to her guards, who shrugged, so she looked back to the young colt, “Yes, yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young…”
“Rush! Angelic Rush!” He jumped in, “I came all the way here to pursue my destiny.”
West and the other guard snickered at the youth’s name. Rush wasn’t entirely proud of his full name, so only a select few knew it beyond “Rush”.
Luna looked to her guards again for guidance. West indicated that she inquire further. Luna took on her best caring smile, “What destiny is that?”
“I want to be a pegasus.” Rush announced bluntly, “Could you? Could grant me my wish?”
Luna visibly winced with regret, “Ooo. Ah, I wish I could, I honestly wish I…” She caught herself, “We regret to inform thee that, due to a vow of nonintervention, such action must be reserved for special circumstances.”
This deflated the eager earth pony. “I see. I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to convince you otherwise?”
Princess Luna shook her head solemnly.
“Well, thanks for hearing me.” Rush turned to find his friend.
“Would you like to join us in some ‘fun’?” Luna offered.
“We really should find out what that game called.” West mumbled.
“I’m sorry, your highness, but I’m afraid I’m not up to any games at the moment.” Rush said as he began to sulk off.
Luna nodded sympathetically, and thought of something, “If thou changest thy mind, feel free to write us! Or write us if thou just happen to have any thoughts on friendship or something!” She watched him leave, “It was nice to make thy acquaintance!” She looked towards West. “Dost thou want to play us?”
West glanced around, “Sure.”

Inkwell watched the ferris wheel turn as he approached the operator wearing the uniform bowtie and flat straw hat. “Excuse me, I’m looking for some pony.”
“What did he look like?”
“He’s an earth pony, light blue coat, white mane, and pale yellow eyes.” Inkwell said.
The operator nodded, “Is his cutie mark a pegasus gliding by a cloud?”
“That’d be him.” Inkwell confirmed.
“I saw him alright,” the operator said, “Looked rather depressed. He bought tickets for twenty rides on this behemoth.”
“Mind if I get on with him?”
“Ticket’s two bits.”
Inkwell paid the stallion, and patiently waited for his friend’s gondola to come down.
Rush barely looked up as Inkwell joined him. “So… I got us rooms.” Inkwell said.
“That’s nice.”
“How’d you do?”
Rush inhaled sighed, “Well, I met Princess Luna.”
“Really now?” Inkwell could guess that the story wasn’t going to have a happy ending, “How did that go?”
“She was very nice about it, but apparently they aren’t allowed to make such large changes.” Rush said, his eyes never leaving the view from their gondola, watching the sunset, “So, once again, all my high expectations crash just as hard as I do.”
“Well, we can only go upward from here, right?” Inkwell desperately tried in the face of Rush’s misery, “Tomorrow’s another day. We can go to the mint, then we can start on your next big idea.”
Rush remained silent.
“Maybe we can find some researchers at the school for gifted unicorns who can give us a hoof?”
“What’s the use?” Rush murmured, “I’ve tried increasingly stupid things, and all it’s brought me is pain and depression. I’m the town idiot, my parents are ashamed, and not a single other pony knows what it’s like to know you’ll never live up to their cutie mark.”
The words hung like gallows.
“So, what will you do?” Inkwell finally said as the wheel began its first descent.
“Parents own the supply store. Probably could just do that.” Rush said, “It makes plenty of money, so I’ll live comfortably. Unfulfilled, but I’ll find some happiness.”
“I see.”
They remained silent for the rest of the ride. Inkwell excused himself, leaving his low friend to the rest of his journeys.

“Get off me!”
Luna looked at the trapdoor expectantly as an unfamiliar unicorn forced it opened, and dragged himself up, her personal guards clinging tightly. “Good night, citizen.” Luna said, “May we ask why thou are forcing thy way to our keep?”
“I’ve come seeking an appeal!” Inkwell said.
Princess Luna waved her guards off. West gruffly went back down stairs, leaving his fellow to keep watch. “Appeal to what?” Luna said, sitting down as she poured some tea.
“My friend met you earlier.” Inkwell panted, “He’s the rather eccentric one, wants to be a pegasus?”
“Yes, Angelic Rush, I do recall him,” Luna said as she finished pouring out six cups, offering one each to the guard and unicorn, “He seemed rather… crestfallen when we were forced to turn him down.”
“You didn’t have to turn him down,” Inkwell said rather bluntly, “I’m not exaggerating when I say he’s built his entire life around that one goal. He’s done some really dumb things, just to soar in the sky. He’s got nothing outside of the hope that, one day, he’ll fly.” Inkwell sat down, “Now, he’s being forced to confront defeat. I hate seeing him like that.”
Princess Luna slowly placed her cup on the table, “Surely you don’t believe he’s the first to petition my sister and me to grant his deepest wish.”
“Of course not!” Inkwell said, “But…”
“I have had parents, biting back tears, beg for me to cure their child.” Luna said as she turned away from Inkwell’s gaze, “Even then, I was forced to say ‘no’. I don’t enjoy it, friend of Angelic Rush. However, it is not our place to forcibly alter the balance of things.” Luna bowed her head, “It is my duty to serve as the provider of the moon and as ruler. We must let our subjects work through adversity and face success or failure.” She turned sharply, “We cannot do everything for everypony. They must learn to fight for what they need.” Luna sat down and sipped her tea, “Dost thou understand what I am telling you?”
Inkwell bowed his head, “Yes. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” He stood up solemnly.
“I do recall,” Luna said suddenly, “long in the past, a case quite similar to that of your friend. He was a hardworking pony, managed a farm. Years he toiled in front of his plough to provide our kingdom many goods. He, too, had his eyes towards the pegasi. He came to us, and pleaded that we grant him, even if temporarily, wings.” Luna refreshed her tea, “We denied him, and offered our sincere apologies. He thanked us, and left. To this night, I regret never knowing what became of that farmer.” She hovered up a slip of paper, “I believe I may know of a pony, intelligent and creative, who is willing to take on a challenge of his abilities.” Luna smiled, “Perhaps he can help secure Angelic Rush his wings.”
“Thank you, majesty!” Inkwell said earnestly, reach for the paper.
Luna withdrew it a couple of inches, “We do request, however, that thou keep us updated on your quest, preferably by letter.”
“I’ll write you whenever we make progress.” Inkwell swore.
“Most excellent,” Princess Luna said as she surrendered the address, “If we could have thy name?”
“Inkwell, ma’am.”
“We look forward to thy letters, Inkwell.”

The tour of the Canterlot Mint was a less depressed affair than the ferris wheel, as Rush tried to keep a strong front as they followed the tour guide, mingling with a group of fellow visitors. “Over here is where we strike the coins after they are softened in the annealing furnace, and upsetted. This press can imprint up to a hundred and fifty bits at a time. This is a process called striking.” The guide said, pointing over the railing suspended over the unicorn workers, setting the coins in place.
Rush glanced at Inkwell, who was furiously taking notes, “I don’t think we’re going to be tested on this.”
“I happen to like taking notes,” Inkwell replied, “It helps me remember for later.”
“I usually find the practice distracting,” Rush observed, “I can’t focus on both writing and the material at the same time.”
“As you probably know, the coins feature the cutie marks of the Princesses, with Celestia’s often referred to as the ‘head, and Luna as the ‘Tails’.” The guide began walking, “Next up is the inspection station.”
“You feeling better?” Inkwell asked.
“Never better,” Rush lied, “It’s a relief to move onto more realistic goals.”
Inkwell nodded at this supposed wisdom, “I’m sure it is. Say, what do you think about clockwork?”
Rush glanced inquisitively at the unicorn, “It makes things go tick?” Rush walked a few steps, face screwed trying to figure out what his friend was alluding to, giving up, “why do you ask?”
“I hear they’ve been doing some amazing things with the art,” Inkwell said, “I hear they’ve even managed to make a clock that functions on a 24-hour format.”
“24-hour format? Why?” Rush said, “There’s only twelve on a clock.”
“But there’s twenty-four in a day,” Inkwell answered, “The point is, it’s a more logical system to…” he saw Rush’s lost, but still supportive, face, “Anyways, I thought we could look into it.”
“Really, clockwork?” Rush said, “But you’ve always been more interested in echo gnomes ice.”
“Economics,” Inkwell corrected, “Which I am, however, if you look, you can see those presses are worked by intricate and elaborate clockwork.” They had lagged far behind the rest of the tour at this point, “See how it has to apply even pressure?”
“Yes…” Rush said suspiciously.
“Just to do that, engineers had to make hundreds of prototypes, try to find the perfect system.”
“I already told you, I’m not going to fly, and I’m at peace with it,” Rush said, catching onto what his friend was attempting.
“No, you’re not,” Inkwell said, “You’ll never be at peace with it. We’ve been friends since childhood. I know you.”
Rush began walking away.
“I saw Princess Luna!” Inkwell yelled after him. Rush paused. “She explained why she won’t magic away your problem, and it made sense.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t help,” Inkwell said, running to catch his friend, “The way I see it, our biggest problem hasn’t been lack of willingness or knowledge, we just lacked the necessary skills to properly implement it.”
“So, we need to learn clockwork?” Rush continued. He looked thoughtful, “I suppose it could work…”
“We don’t need to learn anything actually. Princess Luna gave me the address of a particularly talented clockmaker,” Inkwell corrected, “All we need to do is to draft him to the cause.”
Rush couldn’t fight his joy filled grin, “Alright, where to then?”
“We’re going to Ponyville.”

Ponyville bustled with the usual mundane activity of ponies going to and from places, pausing to converse with friends, and other such errands. The two friends found the town clock shop with ease, shouldering the blue door open. The entire building was filled with the measured ticks and tocks expected. It was a little unsettling to Rush, the way that every clock beat unanimously without variation, those with pendulums synced in their swings. Behind the sales counter, a brown stallion, tinkering with a clock, gave a brief glance towards Rush and Inkwell.
The unicorn nudged his friend forward, who followed the momentum to the store owner. “Excuse me, are you Sepia Tock?”
“Very good, you may take any prize from the bottom self.” The clockmaker pointed to a collection of tin toys, his eyes remaining on the task at hoof.
Rush briefly scanned the toys, and took a small biplane. “I have this slight problem I was hoping you could help me with.”
“If it’s not related to clocks, my answer is no,” Sepia said briefly, “I am not having my store burn down again.”
Rush looked to Inkwell for guidance, who joined him at the counter. “What my friend is trying to get at is that he wants you to build him something.”
“Clock, metronome, or hourglass?”
“Wings,” Rush and Inkwell said jointly.
Sepia Tock carefully placed his tweezers down, and looked Rush in the eyes. “You want me, a simple clockmaker, to build you wings?”
“Yes, I wish to fly someday,” Rush answered bluntly, “It’s my understanding you can make that happen.”
“Why?” Sepia said, “What led you to believe that I can make you a pegasus? Who’s logic led you to my doorstep?”
“Princess Luna herself sent us to you,” Inkwell said, looking at the tin toys, “You know, you should probably charge a bit more for these.”
“I keep them cheap for the foals.” Sepia said off-hoofedly, “You two realize how completely insane this is, right? Nopony’s ever done something so…”
“Extravagant?” Inkwell suggested.
“Crazy awesome?” Rush provided.
The clockmaker pointed at the wingless pegasus, “That. First word anyways, second is still debatable.”
“Oh, I see,” Rush said, “Well, that’s alright then, sorry for wasting-”
“I didn’t say no,” Sepia interrupted, “I just want to know why this is so important.”
Rush sat down and stared Sepia straight in the eye. “Ever since I was a colt, no taller than this,” Rush held a hoof at a rough estimate, “I’ve envied pegasi as they glided easily from cloud to cloud, souring to the high heavens. I desperately wanted to join them. I have spent my life in constant pursuit. I know the architecture of the common wing. Pegasus, bird, dragonfly, anything that can even flutter, I have studied it intensely. I have let all other factors of my life suffer, hitting dead end after dead end. I have done so many stupid things, broken every bone in my body at least once. I traveled to Canterlot, just to be denied a magic solution by the Princesses. You are my last hope. Can you build me wings?”
Sepia listened to the passionate speech carefully, chin on hoof. Finally, after a minute, he said with complete certainty, “I don’t know. It’ll be fun to try though.”
The eyes of Inkwell and Rush lit up.
Sepia held up a hoof “I want to be clear here: this is not a weekend project. This could take years, decades, lifetimes.” Sepia indicated the surrounding room, “And I have a business and life. I will build you your wings, but it will be a long wait. Even then, I cannot promise you flight. Do you understand?”
“Yes I do,” Rush answered without hesitation, “Mr. Tock, build me my wings.”
Sepia nodded, “Then let’s begin.” He went back to the clock on his counter.
Rush and Inkwell stood expectantly.
“For chrono’s sakes, I don’t mean right this instance. Leave your address and I’ll keep you updated!”

True to his word, it was taking Sepia years to build the clockwork wings. As is the nature of things, life went on in the meantime, as Rush and Inkwell kept going, immersing themselves in the studies of their respective interests. As it turns out, in his ongoing research into pegusi, Rush became the first accredited, non-winged flight teacher. Sure, he couldn’t actually get employment at a school, as they tend to be made of clouds and suspended in the air, but he managed to find work as Ponyville’s official flight teacher and medical assistant for broken wings. Inkwell became a noted member of the economic department of Canterlot University, acting as a teacher and advisor to businesses throughout Equestria.
Rush and Inkwell remained in constant contact as their lives separated them. Over a decade after the initial meeting with Sepia Tock, a letter arrived at Inkwell’s office. It said, simply: “They’re ready. ~Rush”

The two met outside the clock shop. At some point, it had been transformed into a clock tower, though, if you looked closely you could see the remnants of the original building, most notably the sign and blue doors.
“Well, you ready?” Inkwell asked his friend as they stared at the building.
“When wasn’t I?” Rush said.
“Shall we go in?”
Rush hesitated, and then started the march. They opened the door to the beat of clocks. Sepia was moving clocks around his store, pausing to wave at the two friends. He set the box down, “Oh, hey, you’re here.”
Inkwell glanced around at the haphazardly displayed timepieces, “Didn’t this place used to be… neater?”
Sepia shrugged, “My apprentice went and graduated on me. She’s busy keeping the shelves neat at her own store.” Sepia awkwardly adjusted a nearby hourglass, “The missus and kids are out of town for a performance. Are you ready to fly?”
“More than anything,” Rush said with a grin.
“Then let's go,” Sepia said, waving them towards the stair leading to the basement, which was a worse mess than the store, though a well-organized one. Rush wasn’t often allowed into the workshop, and Inkwell had never entered before. The kept a reverent hush as they studied it. Boxes overflowing with parts lined a wall, and timepieces in various stages of construction littered many work tables. Above what appeared to be the principle table was a shelf, on which sat an intricate clock with the words ‘for my beloved mentor and dear friend’ carved in a brass plaque on the face. Besides it were three rather poorly made hourglasses, a name carefully carved in the base of each one.
Most exciteing was the lumpy tarp in the middle of the room, which Sepia walked up to. He looked at Inkwell and Rush with a smirk, “I’d give you a big speech, but that would just be cruel, so here:” He threw the tarp off. There sat a pair of large canvas wings, carefully folded to the center contraption, which was encased in a light tin shell with leather straps sprouting from under it. Sepia looked to Inkwell, “If you’ll help me?”
They placed it on the back of Rush, and secured the straps around his forelegs and middle. The weight surprised Rush slightly. “It’s… lighter than I expected.”
“It should be light,” Sepia remarked, “We have to offset every ounce, so lighter the better. Now then, let’s go find ourselves a takeoff point.”
“Will this be able to launch from anywhere?”
Sepia shook his head, “For it work, we’ll have to start high, so let’s get you to the roof.”

Rush stood upon the clock tower, Sepia and Inkwell nearby in a pink balloon. “Okay, you see that cord on your left? After you jump, tug it to get started.”
Rush looked at the far away ground, “Not to sound doubtful, but with if it doesn’t work?”
“The cord on your right will deploy a parachute. I want to be perfectly clear, Rush: If anything, absolutely anything, goes wrong, do not hesitate to pull that cord. The entire thing will collapse, and a parachute will deploy. I hate to lose all that work, but your life is more important.” Sepia leaned towards Inkwell, “Besides, I still have the blueprints.”
Inkwell smirked at this, then waved to his friend, “At your will, Rush."
Rush looked at the clouds above, took a deep breath, and leapt forward.