Ozymandius felt the wind in his fur as he plummeted. The curvature of the Earth was visible, far below.
"What's all this, then?" said a dark form, swooping in. Swiffin, Prince of Birds, was currently an oversized raven.
"Well, it was going to be flying," said Ozzy, "but it isn't working out."
"Cats can't fly."
"Right. I was going to fix that. Can you help me land?"
"And why were you learning to fly?" Swiffin cocked his head.
Ozzy thought. "Definitely not to catch birds and eat them."
There was a pause. "I suppose that counts as subtle, for cats."
Hugo Graphic Story Review 2016
10 hours ago