He fell, fell, fell through the warm, near air; comfortably warm, comfortably near. A linen veil, it struck as a caress, like the breath of a lover adrift in dreams on the nape of his neck. An easy descent that lilted, lazed. The world tug languid, relaxed. Unfamiliar. Alike neither Ganaxavori’s onerous ferocity nor Eqiko-4’s utter absence. More akin, he felt, to a minor moon — yet one possessed of an irreconcilably vast planetary rondure.

[i]“Po~ossessed,”[/i] Eti stretched, his tiny mouth filled with fuzzy, wet clots of cloud, [i]“what a peculiar word!”[/i]

Perchance a hollow planet, a veritable Pellucidar!

Arms outflung, his red duster flapped gayly and with purpose rekindled in its current close kinship with wings. It was odd, the way the world below whirled and whorled. He’d thrown himself from starry heights before, but this felt different. Safer. Much safer. The cyclonic blur obscured occasionally by thick threads of cloudy lace struck him as particularly whimsical. Hardly off-putting, quite the contrary. Eti relished the moment, the strange, safe, tranquil dive, eyes shut, ears perked, his happy howl harmonized with the onrush of wind. 

To him, the air tasted of freedom. 

Freedom and cotton candy.

Tout de suite! Eti felt eerily observed, a predatory momentary pique of intense interest. Head rightward rotated, his eyes opened and his gaze locked with the flat black eyes of a large, white, long-neck bird. A sensation seized them, alien, ineffable. [i]Them? Yes, them.[/i] It lingered. It was, to Eti, as though he gazed upon himself, unnatural in this environment. Ridiculous, yet adorable. Happy, but confused. Whiskers forced flush against his furry red and white cheeks. Then he plummeted through a cloud that obstructed his view of the bird and, oddly, of himself.

[i]Weird. Oh well! I left my hat behind![/i]

[i]<< Ruzgar, find an appropriate local song and blast it from my buttons! >>[/i]

[i]<< Will do ... searching ... candidate found on KOST 103.5: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tAGnKpE4NCI]Nothing Else Matters[/url]. >>[/i]

The last faint blanket of clouds fled behind him with a final wisp of a kiss against his whiskered cheeks. He readied his mind. Below neared the foundation of this strange domain. Or, perhaps, merely its solid exterior. Still at elevation, he observed muddled heather gray blotched in hunter green slashed by ultramarine. Terrain, one that exhibited signs of life — such the Tabris Ruzgar informed him through their enmeshed neural web. Information Eti promptly ignored. Muddled blotches neared and refined to a colossal city and a reed-rich swamp, both intermingled and sprawled among tired domesticated hillocks. Through this, a serpentine river wended, a deep uninterrupted blue contrasted with the roundabout chaos.

Literally roundabouts and traffic circles in deranged prolific preponderance such as to crush the minds of Su-lahn’s corps of civil engineer servitors.

Eti blinked, and when he opened his eyes he knelt atop a one of several spires affixed to an expansive Neo-Gothic stone structure, perhaps a religious shrine. It was very contoured, with ridges that jutted around deep tall window wells and cut vertically along the building’s multitudinous towers. It, the entirety of the thing, loomed over a courtyard with a verdant lawn, an unmistakable bright green patch that went somehow unseen throughout his fall. As far as Eti could tell, this was the highest vantage point around, save one, a lone clock tower that dominated the skyline. Inexplicably, he, from a distance, likewise looked down on himself, a tiny pure red patch in a milieu of dust and haze.

On closer inspection, stone was not the right word. 

He inclined his snout toward the spire’s ostensibly tile surface, sniffed, and tapped it with the nib of his claw. Soft to the touch, with a scent that intermingled artifice and organic. Eti then remembered Ruzgar’s status report:

[i]Yarn.[/i]

He looked at his hand. 

[i]Yarn![/i]

He looked at the people who milled around on the road below, dressed for, it seemed, a momentous occasion. They peered up at him, at first perplexed, then delighted, and then inexplicably disgruntled. He locked eyes with a horse, and again fleeted that sensation, that impression that he, somehow, gazed upon himself perched atop the spire. Then it, that noble, chocolate-maned, white-socked, dappled Clydesdale, averted its gaze, but Eti still saw the city from high above, from the rooftop, and from the middle of a road confined by a procession of people ornamented and adorned for a royal cavalcade.

[b]... Ϟ OPEN MIND FOR A DIFFERENT VIEW ...
... Ϟ AND NOTHING ELSE MATTERS ...[/b]

[i]Also yarn![/i]

He noticed a peculiar little woman, her antics out of place. Magic gushed from her limbs and ensnared two denizens of this world to a wall. They didn’t seem hurt; rather, they were quite contrite.

[i]Also ... err, slime? No way is something that drips and flows in so slippery a manner made merely of yarn![/i]