He wondered how it felt, right before his old friend started running towards the edge of the cliff—how the air felt on his face as he jumped and flew for just a moment, before he fell.
He didn’t have many details. He didn’t even know what time of the day it happened. Did he almost touch the sun, then plummet to the earth like a modern day Icarus without the wings? He had been known to fly too close in the past. Did the moonlight kiss his cheek before he vanished into the shadows below?
It was of little consequence; he fell nonetheless—but not without jumping first.
Not without a running start.