>>5898581>>5898565>>5898315>>5897955>>5897819One of the nectar-spinning avians is what zips from between the trees, effortlessly weaving its way through the thin air between them. It orbits around you, almost as the moon circles above the surface of the earth, observing. You observe it in kind, taking in its layered, tightly-layered plumage, thin needle-beak, and its constantly-beating wings—moving so fast you can hardly see them, in fact, except as a blur. You think you’ve seen comparable organisms in biological textbooks… ‘Hummingbird’, was that the name? The soft thrum which comes from this example gives credence to the name, though there are key differences as well. This lunar example seems to be a little large, for one thing; based on what you’ve red, the largest terrestrial hummingbird is barely over a foot in wingspan, while this one’s wings stretch a good two-and-a-half feet Its beak seems strangely lustrous and tubular—almost like a fused tube of metal, or silver keratin. Its feathers sparkle with a subtle glamour magic—something to disguise its passage, perhaps, though in relative stillness it simply casts little sparkles and sparkles in its wake. And then there’s the legs… Or then there ISN’T, you should say. It has none!
“I guess I won’t need to worry about getting a big shoulder-guard for you to perch on like ZIth-Zi with Hershy, huh?” you ask the bird aloud.
You expect no response, nor do you receive one. With a <Calm> spell, you draw it nearer though, until you are able to gradually, slowly, reach out and cradle the creature in your hand. Its wings remain beating at first, hovering untrustingly above your palm, but second by second, minute by minute, the hummingbird settles down until its wings are only thrumming periodically with nervous energy, and its weight—insubstantial—is settled upon your hand.
“I think I’ll call you…”
>Name the forever-flying celestial hummingbird![C]
