Peninnah is now five, and her wingspan should be sufficient to carry her aloft; she's just having a little trouble with the necessary coordination. Isabella has worked with her, and so has Rinnah, but Peninnah is impatient and has given up on both of them in favor of asking Damaris for help, on the poorly articulated theory that Damaris, at age thirteen, is closer to Peninnah's own size and might make more sense.
And after a little more flying to get them over the right area, it is time to sing.
Keziah has about an average angel's voice along all dimensions, except that she can sing ludicrously high notes with it.
Looks like in this town there are little cakes and caramel apples. Keziah is just as happy.
Keziah has good stamina, and she's ready to head back to the Eyrie as soon as they've filled up and sung some pretty little songs for the townspeople.
On the way home, she conjures another caramel apple.
Damaris does not return this gesture. Because her mouth is full of tasty caramel apple.
[It would probably be cheating to just hover for a while and brainphone Jovah and tell him what to do. At least singing's fun.]
[Why do you suppose we got made angels? I mean, somebody has to control the weather, but there could be more ears to hear prayers from the ground - or more interfaces - or something. And instead there's angels.]
[Yes,] says Jovah.
[Why did the settlers pick angels as a way to get the weather under control?]
[Your appearance is similar to some creatures that appeared in their religious mythology, and many of the settlers found the prospect appealing for themselves personally.]
Peninnah meets them, when they land. "Did you intercession good?" she wants to know. "Is it weathering nice there now?"