Who: Maximum AND OPEN What: Rocky landing and arrival in LA When: Late afternoon Where: A deserted alleyway downtown Rating: PG, and probably will not go up
She wasn't exactly sure when she started losing control.
It was a dust storm. Not like they hadn't been through worse, like in the frozen tundra. Of course, they hadn't -tried- to fly in the tundra storm...they HAD tried to fly in the hurricane, though. But they could still -see- in the freaking hurricane.
Sand made that difficult. It got -everywhere-.
Max had been flying so hard, she -shot- out of the swirling sands, and within seconds, she was flying low over Los Angeles. It took all of two seconds to swerve from a building, clip a balcony, and go crashing into a dark alley.
The flock was scattered. She hoped against hope -they- had made it together, or something. Her wings hurt. So bad. Neither one was broken, but they felt like they could have been ripped out of her back. Her ankle could be broken, though. Yeah.
Lost in a large busy city. Flock nowhere in sight.
Well...at least she had made it to where she was supposed to go...
Oh, yeah.'Hey. Hey, Voice. Hello? A little help here?'
No answer. Figures. 'Note to self. Next time Mr. High-and-mighty-omnipresent-Voice-in-the-back-of-my-head tells me to go somewhere, tell him to stick his directions where the sun don't shine.'