[center][sup]art by [url=https://www.artstation.com/artist/oldfish]Yu Yiming[/url][/sup]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/dMnXrIb.jpg[/img]
[sup]please see the [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/93979-wings-askew-closed]intchk[/url] for RP information.[/sup]
[url=http://8tracks.com/kimtsan/the-book-of-air]♫[/url][/center]

Fog rolled white through the village at dawn, just like the Weatherman had said it would. Technically the fog was only clouds passing through the Island-in-the-Sky, bumping and breaking against the high forests and jutting stones, covering everything in a soft, quiet blanket of mist. Stillness surrounded the village of Heron.

Something huge and dark floated past the sun, swimming peacefully through the dim morning clouds -- a skywhale on its lonely way to the mountains. It made no sound as it dipped its tail, and the clouds swirled and parted in its wake.

The sun rose a little higher, the clouds dissipated, and the Weatherman's green balloon rose up high into the clear summer sky. The gold-trimmed eaves of the king's palace shimmered in the sunlight, and the colors of the marketplace gleamed as the peddlers raised their tents and awnings. The music of a flute rose up out of the village square: the flower peddler played each morning to attract customers to her wild orchids and violet roses.

A red wooden carriage swung overhead, clicking its way along a cable that led high into the cloud-tipped rocks, where farmers and miners waited to trade. A couple of hang-gliders swooped and dipped around the carriage, narrowly missed the Weatherman, scattered a shimmering flock of golden windfish, and disappeared between the high forested rocks.

Today promised to be a beautiful day.