by Megan Mcdiarmid

Created on: June 08, 2009

Cherry Duncan looked out at the mountainous, Alberta landscape from the entrance of a cave with sleep in her eyes and her strawberry blond hair slowly tangling itself in the wind. The sun was just beginning to rise and Cherry could slowly feel the sun relieving her from her cold, clammy body. The sun painted the sky in pink and scarlet colors and created a golden mist that hovered over the tree tops. The scene was beautiful. Breathtaking. It was the perfect morning for flight. Cherry was the first awake out of her family of eight. Cherry was usually the first awake, she liked the time alone to watch the sunsets.

Something close to an evil grin grew on Cherry's face as she realized her next step. She curled her toes around the edge of the cave's entrance, breaking off little pieces of rock. Cherry stuck one foot out of the cave's entrance and with the other pushed off, leaping into the air. Her body formed a perfect horizontal line until she ducked her head and she began to beeline for the tree covered terrain below her at the speed of a bullet. Seconds before crashing into the trees Cherry unfurled her wings and let the air catch them like a parachute, stopping her immediately. Cherry winced, the impact of the air pressure on her wings hurt and she pushed away from the trees. She darted off in a straight line, cruising along and making the best of the gorgeous morning. The wind felt so nice on her uncovered skin. Cherry was in need of new clothing. Her white shirt was slightly torn in places and her white shorts were dirty and torn at the bottoms.

Cherry stretched her eleven foot wingspan as far as it could go, loosening all the knots and kinks. It felt nice to stretch her wings out. Cherry felt a little bit of pride knowing of all the people who would have loved to be where she was, flying over the tree tops, feeling the wind in her face, being completely free.

Cherry's few moments of bliss were interrupted when she heard her name being called by a sleepy, echoing, childish voice. Cherry stopped in her path and imitated the breast stroke with her wings, making her go backwards and up, towards the caves entrance.

Olga, a nine year old member of her family, stood in the cave's entrance with a sleepy smile on her face and her golden ringlets tossing around in the wind.

"Morning Cher," she said, stretching her wings and then kicking her twin brother, Trill, in the back gently. Trill unfolded from his wings and gave Olga a sleepy glare. He rubbed his brown

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