Flight by angel is like nothing Jon has ever experienced before. Mike Crew made Jon feel the terror of freefall, an endless horror of lost control; Murmur transporting him here was dizzying, but in a much more pleasant way. There was care in this carrying, and even though being flown still frightened Jon a little on instinct, his faith in Murmur’s promise of protection never wavered.

It does, however, take Jon a moment to reorient himself after they’ve landed. The cue that he no longer needs to keep his eyes closed is more than welcome, and he shakily exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he slowly releases his hold on the angel. (He might’ve been clinging a little bit. Oops.)

Jon takes a step back so he can fully take in the sight of Murmur’s wings. He’s seen them before, of course, up close - but not in full, not like this. “Your wings,” he says, voice diminished to a muted hush, “they’re …”

Magnificent.

He takes another slow step back, and another - and still manages to trip and fall backwards with a surprised yelp into a pile of snow. Don’t mind him, he’s just going to rest here for a moment, and stare up in awe at the swirl of colors in the sky. It’s one of the most beautiful things Jon has ever seen, and he’s left speechless.