Furl

"I can fly!" She cried over her shoulder, stil running along the wall, "Can't you?"
He ran faster, desparate to keep up - he didn't believe that she could fly, and if she jumped from this wall she'd be dashed to pieces on the vicious rocky shore.
"Wait!" He said, fingers grabbing at her sleeve as she leaped out, but catching only air. He skidded to a halt, inches from the wall's end, eyes searching frantically for a sign of the girl with the feathers twisted into her hair. There was nothing - neither in the air nor on the rocks below.
"Safa!" He shouted, and the wind snatched at his words, teasing and tossing them across the bay. Far below a fisherman looked up, shading his eyes against the sun. Panic and confusion filled him; his heart ceased to beat in that terrible moment. A single sea-hawk wheeled overhead, it's harsh cries mingling with his own.
"Safa!" The boy and the sea-hawk cried.
Fly with me, whispered a thread of the wind, brushing past him.
"Where are you?!" He begged.
I am here, the wind breathed, and a single feather drifted down to land at his feet.