Grace: I don't believe you

I walked out of the corner shop with a Yorkie bar.

"Why do you eat those?" says Flit. 

"Not all of can survive on clouds, you know. Besides, they're nice," I reply. She pulls a face. Flit's my guardian. She's either in the form of an eagle so big I can ride on her and fly anywhere, or a girl. Whichever she is, she's always my best friend. She's currently a girl. She gets energy from clouds, mist, fog, things like that.

"Whatever. Do you want me to fly you home?"

"Nah, it's too nice. I wanna walk. We'll fly tonight." I say. We both like a bit of danger- it'd be so cool, getting in the papers because you were seen riding a bird- but I'm slightly more cautious. It's too busy, and it gets hot up there above the clouds, nothing to protect you from the sun. It's better at night, I filmed out my window once at the full moon, I have a shot of us silhouetted against the moon. I go round the corner and suddenly Flit stops.

What is it? I ask, making use of our mental link.

Another guarded one. 

I don't believe you. Where's their guard?

Honestly, you humans are so bad at spotting guards. Just look.

I look at the person, trying to spot their guard.

The End

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