William moved swiftly through the forest, his hands brushing against the soft feathers he had collected. "Almost fifty now," he muttered to himself, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and impatience. He still needed 150 magic feathers, a number Calcifer had insisted upon to craft the flying artifacts William so eagerly anticipated.
Flying. The very thought of soaring through the sky brought a spark of excitement to his eyes. "As humans, we are bound to the earth," William thought, looking up at the sky peeking through the trees. "But we always yearn for the freedom of the sky." With renewed determination, he headed deeper into the mountains, knowing his goal was not far off.
