Flash Fiction, WOF

“… twenty-eight, twenty-nine…” Butterfly dragged out the word, talons pressed against her eyes and wings beating to keep her in the air. “Thirty! Ready or not, here I come!” She opened her eyes and waited a moment for them to adjust to the empty white of the cloud she was inside.

She was wet with millions of tiny water particles which she shook off as soon as she flew out of the colorless mass. She drifted into a slow, strong air current and scanned the clouds around her.

Toucan would be the easiest to find. The RainWing would just change the color of her scales, and then it would be easy to spot the shifting patch of blue in the sky. Or, if she were hiding behind a cloud, her shadow would give her away.

That was something that nobody ever really thought about, actually. No matter…