The bird with broken wings plummeted from the sky, the shrill and desperate countdown of its life was so tragically sad.
Sorry, Lyle's screams were more akin to the struggles of a pig being slaughtered, without any sense of beauty. But his wildly flailing limbs, the expression of terror and desperation, and the screams that pierced through the roaring wind still showed us the most ordinary and sincere love for life. This, strangely enough, shared the same essence with the cuckoo's blood-curdling cries.
Nia's cheers merged with Lyle's, drowning out all other sounds. She joyfully stretched out her entire body, creating a fluttering curtain in the fierce winds, and no one faulted her for it. Nia truly experienced the delight of falling. The whirlwind tickled her body, touching every tendril, every sucker, not even sparing the narrow gaps between the gridded tentacles.
"Giggle giggle giggle..." Nia stretched out, responding to the "embrace" of the others below her.
