Fragmented Wingbeats

Beyond the smooth curve of the zeppelin’s bulk, the land spiralled away beneath him like a patchwork quilt. Hitch stared down at it, half his mind devoted to the sheer scale before him, the other half focused on the rope loops anchoring his forelegs to the white canvas surface.

“Heave to!”

The command rang out like a gunshot, and with a glacial creak, the zeppelin curved left. Hitch felt the ground beneath his hooves shift — it wasn’t ground at all — and the world beneath him spun out and away.

“Pegasi wings six, four, deploy!” The Captain’s commands echoed out through the speaking tubes across the central spine of the gas envelope, and from the barracks exits, two v-shaped formations of pegasi scouts shot out.

Using the sideways momentum of the ship to launch themselves, they peeled off to starboard, and Hitch saw a white-winged mare with a pink mane tip him a salute and a grin as she led her troop off. His heart palpated; every time Zipp left he didn’t know if he would see her return.

“Steady, Hitch,” Sunny said, low and reassuring in his ear, and Hitch let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Steadied, Hoof Leader,” he responded automatically, and she grinned at him.

“Is it really Hoof Leader when you’re the only one in my group?”

“Two is still a Hoof,” he said, smiling back. The world seemed a little more real already, now that he wasn’t staring down at the wilds below.

Sunny launched back into her explanation of how to patch a tear, but Hitch couldn’t seem to focus. Hyperaware of the parachute on his back, of just how far Sunny had to stick her neck to get him this chance, of how bucking stupid it was for earth ponies — technicians or no technicians — to be up on the envelope instead of safely in the gondola. This was a pegasus place.

“Coming round,” the Captain barked over the tannoy, and the zeppelin tilted in the opposite direction.

Sunny adjusted her weight naturally and gracefully, but Hitch’s hooves skidded out from underneath him and all his weight was suddenly hanging from the rope loops while his rear end swung out in an arc that felt like it flipped his stomach a full three hundred and sixty degrees.

“Woah!” As always, Sunny was there to pick him back up. “Up you go, big fella.”

Hitch swallowed hard and tried to find the beauty that he had seen in the sunset sky when he had been down in the gondola. Tried to find the silver lining on this stormcloud. He was fed. He was safe…ish. The ground and its dangers were a long, long, long — too long, if he was being honest —way away.

“I’m alright,” he said, and tried to mean it. “Just explain one more time.”