Give a Ride
"Wait! Stop! Okay, I'll give you a ride." You decide it is better to try than give up already. So you kneel down on all four legs and allow the pig to jump aboard your flank.
It sits on your back and gives a happy little snort. "Fly! Fly!" You realize it is very goading, and the feeling of having it upon your back is a bit embarrassing. Even still, it is also strangely satisfying to be mounted, even by a strange little pig.
You stand and outstretch your wings. You flap once and the wind ruffles the leaves on the trees. Twice and the dirt on the ground skitters outward. Then you flap over and over, more quickly until you start to rise from the ground.
The feeling of hovering fills you with elation. It seems you can fly after all!
It takes a bit of effort to really get your wings going, but once you do you are rising toward the sky. Then you are flying outward and over the trees. You can feel the pig shifting and chuckling on your back. "I'm riding a woman," it laughs lecherously.
Despite the cargo, you cannot feel anything but joy as your wings kiss the sky. You can feel and see the forest stretched out beneath you. Wind tussles your hair and you feel like you can go anywhere. Your wings are strong and feel incredible as they cut the breeze.
Your paws curl naturally under your body and you feel almost weightless, though you can sense the strain in your wings from the effort. It sends shocks through you with each pump of the feathered limbs.
You fly in circles over the trees, stroking the air and gliding in equal turns. You close your eyes to feel the cool air on your cheeks. You want to fly forever, but the pig has other business. "Much as I'm enjoying this, missy, I need to get heading back," it grunts. Reluctantly, you circle back to drop the pig off where you found it. It jumps down when you land and gives you a pig's bow.
"You have my permission to go to the river," it says.
"Thank you," you say, although you did the work.
The pig runs off into the trees and you set your sights back toward the river and hope there will be no more distractions.
Written by on 31 March 2019
Cross the River