Not falling. Not falling is good. Everything is happening at once. Can she slow down at all?

She can control her flight intuitively. If she wanted, she could slow, or turn, or hover, or even fly backwards or upside down.

No one else is flying around at this height, but some can be seen skimming the tops of the greenery. Or reddery or brownery or bluery or pinkery.

She's going to try and stop on a brown tree and take stock of what actions she has available to her and who is around.

A brown tree is alighted upon! When she stops flying, she may notice the disappearance of a force that was tugging her arms and wings outward.

Various plants have leaves/fruits/nuts that she could pick/eat/throw/crush. The sandy orange soil doesn't look edible but she could try. There's no one nearby. A cord is tied to her tree, dirty-green with a blue fringe every twenty feet or so. In one direction, it stretches over a patch of yellow ferns to another brown tree; in the other direction it dips down to run over the tops of some teal bushes and then veers to the right behind a white copse.

One of her mental actions seems like pushing - any kind of thought? - to a target. There are no available targets.

One seems like pulling from a target. There are no available targets.

The third one combines numbers in various ways! At the moment, she has the number 0. She could count something and maybe get new number to play with!

On the horizon, there's: a cluster of wicker buildings, a bare patch, an area in darkness, a rock, a wooden house, a tall purple tree with big leaves, a cord like the one here but with pink and black fringes and a small silvery fairy following it, a stream, another area in darkness, a hut on a tall platform, a pile of snow, a field of grey grass, a trail of smoke, trees covered in red vines, and a tower. There's a lot of horizon.

Numbers. There's a sort of intuitive stickiness to them that appeals to her. She takes a minute to double, 1, 2, 4, 12, all the way up to 411,412 until she's satisfied. Good. This is the way things should be.

She's feeling encouraged and invigorated by the smooth way the numbers combined. She can take on anything. She'll start flying again, marveling at the instincts that propel her through the air, and make for the cluster of wicker buildings. Maybe there she can find a target to test her other actions on.

The air gets warmer along the way, and a sun grows in the sky.

A brown fairy with pink wings and purple leaves for hair is sitting on top of the tallest dome. He looks slightly surprised by her approach, but quickly smooths it over and turns to stare at her, intently but with a politely curious expression.

There are no available targets.

She's going to hover. Can she hover? She'll -- stop, in some way, by the dome -- and look at him.

Is there some way she can... something... at him? She tries to think about this which just results in her stopping and staring at the brown fairy.

She successfully hovers. He is still not a target.

If she adds numbers in her head will that -- something -- at him? Especially if they are very big numbers?

Nope. He doesn't respond to her thoughts about numbers.

He flutters in a hole in the side of the wicker dome and returns a moment later with a round slate covered with white dust. He tilts it away from her, draws with his finger, and then reveals a pair of stick figures, one sitting on a dome and one hovering. He shakes the disk, smoothing out the dust and erasing the drawing - the dust seems to move easily on the surface of the stone but doesn't fall off at all. He holds the disk out to her.

She takes the disk -- taking! in her hand! this is a thing that can happen! -- and first just pokes at it. When small dots appear she experiments more with drawing lines, then shakes it as she saw him do, and makes her best attempt at a single stick figure on the newly blank slate. She shows it to him and waits for something to happen.

He is now a target! Pulling from him makes wordless thoughts appear in her mind « - new! Do that - » and then it cuts off and he is no longer a target.

Oh! That was new! That was good!

Do that. Do what?

If she clears the slate and draws another stick figure and shows it to him will that happen again?

No...

He takes the disk, holds it horizontal between them, and stares at it, glancing up at her and back at the disk?

She tries to take the disk. The other thing she can do is numbers. Can she do numbers on the disk?

He holds the disk firmly horizontal.

She can draw various numbers of lines? He becomes a target again « - me new - » for a moment, and then he draws symbols for each number, really just stylized clusters of lines. One, two three, four, five, zero is a dot in a circle, six is a one and a zero next to each other, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, then thirsy, foursy, fifsy, nif. 12 times 11 is 132, is that obvious to her?

"me new." and "new! Do that." She had first thought he'd been calling her new but maybe he is telling her to do new, whatever that is. She has not quite figured out what that means yet but she's going to keep trying.

Numbers. It takes her a minute to associate the symbols with the concepts but once she's made that association the system clicks into place inside her head. She'll clumsily copy his stylized lines then write out her own multiplication: 132 times 411,412 is 1,835,008.

He briefly becomes targetable, and if she pulls from him: « - a calculily! - » and the image of fairies like her but with more leaves and flowers on their heads.

Here's exponentiation, and logarithms, and modular arithmetic. Does that get any emotional response from her?

She is indeed constantly pulling from all available targets just in case any information becomes apparent, which it now has. She must have done new again.

Other fairies like her... is he calling her a calculily?

All of the maths are lovely and she is indeed delighted to experience them.

Now there are thoughts coming to her without any action on her part. «Hi, new person! I'm Biexian-Meter-Wanderer. Would you like to learn to read more? We have books on numbers. I'm a cryptishade - a kind that hides information - and you're a calculily, and this court has lots of books. We're about 10000 meters from the center - the land closest to the fairysource.»

A blue fairy with long wavy light-blue wings comes out to join them, looking down and carrying a stack of books.

«This is Garden-of-Angles. I'll ask what she's brought.» Biexian waves to her and makes a complicated gesture with his hands. Garden holds up 1 finger, then 2, then 3.