As Orcelito watches Riona accustom herself to floating, he wonders why the residents of the Tree weren’t given more quantities of this dust. It looks easier than flying with wings. Wings are often bulky, disruptive, and take a great deal of coordination – floating appears effortless. Perhaps there is more significance behind the two gems on the ground floor, and the wings they give?

He nods at Kit’s suggestion. “Agreed. We’ll wait.” Since the baths are a social location, he hopes others may pass by so he can get a report on the situation.

Orcelito slows his decent as they reach the fifth floor. As he suspected, the large doors to the outside are shut tight and the animals are huddled in their pen. The tack is resting on the walls and there’s no sign of evacuation.

Where they would evacuate to is a pressing question. Would the mist let them leave if it was their only choice? He imagines so. But without knowing for sure his eyebrows draw together in a worried frown. If the Tree is in danger, they could be trapped by the very thing that should protect them. Wouldn’t that be absurd? He’d like to think whoever is in charge of this place is more intelligent than that.

Orcelito touches down on the bath floor, wings sweeping out for balance then folding neatly. Instead of heading straight to the pool to wash up, he kneels down and looks at the floors below.

He looks up to address his roommates. “I’m going check the lower floors. Stay here.”