Gracie has a minion!

Hope the Uillit

Where do I begin?

It’s like I’m learning to walk again
Gracie spent the first six months of her short life thinking the flappy, fluffy monstrosities attached to her back were for decorative purposes only. Well, decorative purposes is a rather diplomatic way of putting it. She preferred some rather choice words, considering her age. Bulky, a waste of space, making her top heavy, and a klutz because she struggled to keep her balance while the mass amount of feathers flopped about with a mind of their own. She was quite the little madam already when she wanted to be.

The little irion’s parents waited in the wings, chuckling to themselves and watching as their darling daughter mastered the art of walking with one foot in front of the other. Like the saying says, you have to learn to walk before you run. For irions it was vitally important you could do both before you attempted the art of flying. Irions are known as majestic, regal beings. No one dared bring embarrassment to the Irion King by looking like an uncoordinated amateur in the sky.

Little did Gracie know that all irions, at the age of at least six months, travelled to a remote mountain in the Veta area of the Lake District to be initiated into the Guardians of the Sky and to become airborne. The festival was held in mid-to-late November every year at a time when the human population of Subeta were too busy enjoying other festivities to notice countless flocks of Irion converging on the secluded wilderness.

Up, up and Away

Gracie’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. "WHOA", she exclaimed. "You’re up in the air, Papa. You’re floating! You’re ... you’re FLYING! So THAT’S what the wings are for. I thought it was silly for us to have them. All they do is weigh us down!" Gracie was like a bat out of hell zipping around her mother’s paws trying to get a better look at her father suspended in mid-air.

Moments later, as Gracie’s parents arranged her securely on her father’s back and set off on their trek soaring to the sacred Irion Ridge in Veta, they shared the legends of the Irion Tales with Gracie; myths passed on from one generation of irion to the next.

Gracie was tucked in close to her parents sides as they slept at the foot of the mountain surrounded by flocks of irion. The following day was going to be a big one and Gracie needed as much rest as she could get. Unfortunately for Gracie, her tummy was filled with millions of aeons flapping their tiny wings keeping her awake and nervous about how she’d get on. Not being able to take anymore worrying, Gracie snuck out from the little den created by her parents. As she tiptoed through the irion, Gracie was mesmerised by the sight of thousands of irion - young and old - covering the mountain from the peak of Irion Ridge right down the side of the mountain and across the small clearing. She made her way to the one vacant piece of land in the area - a long runway strip. Knowing this was the site causing her panic and worry, Gracie started practising hoping to get a head start on the other chibi irion.

Gracie tried everything she could think of to get airborne. She tried running and jumping. She looked for anything a few feet off the ground she could jump off. She tried flapping her wings. She even tried flapping her ears. Nothing worked. Feeling frustrated, she decided gravity was working against her and she was simply the one irion who could not fly.

Forlorn, Gracie heard a soft chuckling come from behind her. Spooked by the noise, she jumped 10 feet in the air and on the way down she managed to float a little.

"I DID IT", Gracie squealed furiously flapping her wings while hovering a couple of feet above the ground.

"Shhh, now, now young one. Don’t be waking up the whole village", the old irion said, amused by this suddenly determined young irion.

As Gracie rushed back to her parents to share her good news, her little paws pounding against the ground and an ecstatic grin on her face, The General of the Domestic Guard silently watched her retreating form, reminiscing about his first time at Irion Ridge some 20 years earlier when he, too, learnt to fly ahead of the flock.

"That one’s meant for greatness", he mused as he turned and made his way back up the ridge to his den on the right hand side of the King.

Gracie’s Art

Credits:

Art by Soft-Boil, ARE, Rachel, Kamirah, Elissandra, Nestly, roar, hagane

Background art by ARE, Overlays by Rachel and hagane ♥️