Snort. "You're welcome."

"Are there additional notes to read, or questions?"

"Didn't transcribe any other conversations, although if you want to know what else I've been doing with my time I can tell you from memory. What did you think of the suggestion that someone you don't know that well from your father's host could visit? It'd be sort of hard to arrange the meeting without letting the person know approximately where you are, but if you want to I can try to think of something."

"I am sure I will eventually be lonely enough to relent on that, if there's no community of strangers I can live near, but not yet."

"Updated estimate on how long it'd take you to be okay on living with converted orcs?"

He flinches. "I could do it."

"You don't have to, but if you can get used to the idea - and I think you'll have better luck with them than with any of the Quendi, as an escapee from the Enemy - it'd mean you could live not-alone without me just showing up every few days. I could try sounding out the Dwarves on it? They seem to like me, although I don't know how long that will last now I've exhausted my metallurgic memories from home."

"I'd enjoy living with Dwarves. It is possible that with continued exposure living with orcs would stop being extremely stressful, and even if not it'd still be better than what I'll experience once you end this."

She writes down to mention the question to Dwarves. "And I can ask Círdan when I go talk to him if I'm right to be pessimistic about Quendi settlements." Sigh. "Anything else before I start teaching you to fly? Do you still want to learn to fly?"

"Yes, I do."

"I'll demonstrate a little bit, you can have that advantage over me," and she changes, beginning to fall from about shoulder-height and flying around in tight circles so he can watch. Then she changes again, and holds out her hand.

This time he takes it.

And he's a bird cupped in her hand, and she lifts him overhead and says, "Ready?"

Yes.

So she tips him out of her palm.

And he falls, of course. Again.

It's a soft landing on grass and not from high up. She scoops him and drops him.

Again. Would I have a better chance from higher?

Scoop drop. "I didn't do it from very high, because I was working alone and can't change into a space I'm not touching, but maybe. A little inconvenient to retrieve you from the ground if I'm someplace high to drop you, though. I guess I could throw you?"

Sure.

Scoop, toss. Straight up.

That felt like I was getting a little bit closer.

"I don't expect you to get this today to the point where I can fling you into the air and then just sort of leave without expecting you to get grounded and stuck, unless being higher up turns out to help a lot, but I can give you a few hours of playing catch. Then I'm going to go give your family the good news and a sheet of notebook paper and some number of orc treatments and some messages from Doriath." Fling.

Can you send osanwë of what flying is supposed to feel like?

"Oh right! I was going to do that, I forgot! Like so -" Flight, the feathers twitching in the wind and the adjustments of the wings -