It took months. They completed the stairs, the camp’s wagon was taken apart, and made a single building. Rock fences bordered the roads and encampment. Shaynen finally made a rock, sharp enough that he could suitably carve into rocks with it. And with it, he was unhinged. He carved his double wing design everywhere, all over the camp. The newest ones showed vast improvements and Shaynen’s reach was documented prominently throughout the camp's rocky mountain paths.

“Not on the walls!” Shaynen’s father yelled. Shooing the boy out of the single room shelter after he was caught carving his wings into it. Shaynen pouted and put his homemade knife into the little leather made sheath that was more competently made. He stood in the center of the camp, hands on his hips, and looked around for somewhere he hadn't yet left a mark.

The camp had a few less faces in it. But only a few. Shaynen rounded up the staircase to the lip of the basin. It had banisters on the stairs and bordering the lip so the camp could only be entered or exited in one place. Shaynen had decorated the rock barriers with not only his wings but also with random lines from his knife experimental phase. Lines decorated the barriers and every wall from his crafting.

At the base of his grand adversary, the tallest climbable rock in the camp, were three pairs of wings. Each signifying a new height reached. Shaynen climbed up the barrier, his usual path was worn from his constant climbing. He’d learned that if he chipped rock away, he’d have better handholds. Thus, several little holes marked his path in various states of use. Shaynen climbed up the well-worn paths to the first ledge, where he took a brief break. Carving new lines into his wings on the wall of the ledge. Another climb, another line deep. He stretched out his fingers and rubbed the joints. Then climbing up the next ledge and the one after to his highest point, which still wasn’t even halfway up the rock. Re-carved his wings on every ledge.

Shaynen sat with his legs dangling over the rock. Kicking and watching over the camp. He could count all the people in the settlement. Shaynen hummed. He could see nearly all the settlement from his vantage point. Able to count the nine adults and keep track of their movements and anything else that wandered close to home. He felt a weight of pride from the responsibility of his surveillance, as boring as it was. Nothing ever came close. Though Shaynen sometimes saw animals moving around and pointed the hunting parties in that direction.

He stood up again and looked up at the next ledge up. Shaynen had already started making holes up to his next point. He grabbed his hand hold and started scaling. Climbing up to the end of his holds and sliding his knife from its sheath. Without a second thought, Shaynen began stabbing into the rock wall to create the next handhold. Moving up and switching hands to stab out the next one. Shaynen was gifted with equal dexterity in both hands, so he could get perfect leverage on either side. His confidence in climbing had climbed alongside him, and just like in the trees, Shaynen didn’t have a single thought about falling. Even as he hacked with reckless abandon into a solid wall.

His task consumed his attention. Keeping his hold on the wall so he didn’t slip and fall, while also chipping away holes big enough that they weren’t useless, kept his full concentration. His fingers and toes grew sore and Shaynen looked at how much farther he had to go. Judging if he would have the strength and dexterity to make it to the ledge. Both of his palms had blisters from the work.

Deciding he could go just a little farther before climbing back down. He stabbed out more holes, his toes started cramping. Just as he felt like he would have to climb back down for the day, Shaynen looked up and saw the next ledge. Barely out of his reach. He put his knife away and reached up as high as he could. Fingertips just barely touching the edge. With a huff, he pulled his knife out and hacked another hole out of the wall. Climbing up the wall, tossing his knife onto the ledge and hauling himself up onto it. His hands were sore up to the elbows and his knees hurt. He laid on the ledge staring up at the pure blue sky. Not a cloud to be seen. Nothing but the heat of the sun and the endless blue.

Shaynen grinned with all his teeth. Showing off the tip of a new tooth growing in the gap. He sat up and scooted closer to the edge. Surveying the new view, he had access to. The people below were identifiable by the prominent colors they wore, but had very little other detail Shaynen could see. He smiled bigger at how high up he was. How clear his view now was. He could see fresh paths over rock walls. Bird nests with messes of feathers. A glimpse of a sea of green far in the distance. He crawled back onto the ledge and grabbed his knife. Getting to work carving wings into the wall. Humming his cheery tune all the while. Smug that he was going to climb down and brag to his parents about how high he'd climbed today. Even though they would tell him to stop climbing, it was dangerous, blah, blah.

Shaynen rolled his eyes, thinking about it. It was only dangerous if you were careless, which he wasn't. He sat back on his heels and admired the fresh lines in the smooth rock. Pride swelling in his chest. He blew the loose powder and immediately regretted it as the dust blew back into his face.

After rubbing the dust out of his eyes, he looked out over the landscape again. Sitting back and watching the people go about their lives. He let his legs dangle over the side again. Counting heads, then birds, then roads between the rock.

While counting the roads, movement stopped him in his tracks. Shaynen stood up and walked to the edge of the ledge to see the steady movement of a small group mulling about the trails. Alarm turned to intrigue, turned to excitement. Shaynen grinned and shouted at them. The group turned in shock, looking around frantically for Shaynen's location. It had him laughing.

"Shaynen! Get down here!"

Shaynen looked down at his father, yelling for him from the base of the rock.

"Do I have to?" He yelled.

"Yes!"

Shaynen looked back at the group. They scattered back into the hidden paths. He sighed and climbed back down with his handholds. Dropping to the ground with a tiny cloud of dust.

"Why did I have to get down? I was fine." Shaynen whined.

"Who were you yelling at?" His father asked. Shaynen shrugged.

"Some people on the road. From up there you can see almost all of them." Shaynen explained. His father looked up at the rock.

"Did you recognize them?" His father asked.

"Couldn't tell," Shaynen said.

"Which path?"

"Oh… seven down, three left." Shaynen scrunched up his face as he tried to count the roads to where he saw the group. "They scattered when I yelled at them."

"Okay, well done." His father gave him a quick side squeeze.

"Does this mean you'll let me climb wherever I want?" Shaynen asked excitedly.

"Absolutely not. You shouldn't even be climbing up there." His father chastised. Shaynen scoffed and crossed his arms. Narrowing his eyes at his father.

“Why don’t you go find… or. Go… Do something else.” His father said, stumbling over his thoughts. He yelled down to a waiting scouting party of three that ran to the stairs as a unit.

“Where are you going?” Shaynen asked, tagging along behind his father’s fast pace. “Can I come too?”

“No.” His father said so suddenly that there was no room for discussion. “And I mean it, Shaynen. You need to stay here.” Shaynen stopped and watched his father and the scouting party vanish around the corner. He muttered and stomped his foot.

“Mom!” He yelled down into the basin, looking at the remaining faces but not seeing the one belonging to his mother. “Mom?” He was sure she hadn’t been going with his father, but not seeing her made him doubtful. He shifted, unsure of what to do. His parents weren’t looking. He vaguely remembered a time that would make him excited. Immediately seeking whatever mischief he could find. But now, he felt very alone and almost naked without his parents’ watchful eye.

“Mom?” Shaynen called as he started walking around the basin. Looking at the camp from every top-down angle. Not seeing her anywhere in the camp, he turned to the roads. Remembering where and how he’d seen her while up in the cliffs. He had to retrace his steps and walk around until his perspective lined up with his top-down view.

Shaynen took off running down the road. Calling for his mother as he skipped. Looking at the dusty road or the chips in the wall. His calling devolved into just humming. He scooped up a rock and threw it as hard as he could between the cracks. Hearing it ‘plink’ off the edges of the mountain cliffs all the way down. He giggled and resumed his skipping.

“Mom?” Shaynen sang as he rounded another corner.

“Shaynen!” His mother appeared, surprising him. She backed him up around the corner. “What are you doing here?”

“Nothing, what are you doing?” Shaynen asked, trying to look around the corner. His mother blocked him from seeing what she was doing.

“Honey, where is your father?” His mother asked. “Aelius!” She shouted over his head, still pushing Shaynen back.

“He’s looking around for the people,” Shaynen said. He stepped back to look up at his mother’s worried face. She was very sweaty and Shaynen noticed a few random blood splatters on her.

“Are you butchering something?” He asked.

“What people? Wait, what did you just say?” His mother’s face jerked down to look at him.

“Butchering,” Shaynen repeated. “What is it? I saw lots of birds’ nests up in the cliffs. You aren’t killing the mama birds, are you?”

“No honey, uh.” His mother shook her head to straighten out her thoughts. “What did you say about people?”

“I climbed up to a higher ledge, and while I was up there, I saw some other people nearby. When I yelled at them, they ran away.” Shaynen rocked back and forth as he explained what he saw. His gaze wandering along the rocks along the edge of the cliff walls.

"Did you recognize any of them?" His mother asked. Kneeling down and forcing him to make eye contact.

"No," Shaynen said. "Am I in trouble?"

"I'm not sure yet," his mother warned. "I told you not to climb those rocks, didn't I?"

"You weren't really that specific," Shaynen tried to come up with reasons.

"But you knew what I meant," she said. "Why aren't you listening?"

"I'm listening just fine," Shaynen mumbled. "Why aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

Shaynen went pink. He crossed his arms and shoved his shoulders up as high as he could. Actively avoiding his mother's gaze and saying nothing.

"Shaynen," his mother said. Then she sighed and held her face in her hand. "C'mon, let's go back to camp."

"I can go by myself," Shaynen said, and he turned. Matching off for the main encampment. Stomping with every step. His mind was caught in a twirling tornado of ' they never listen to me," and 'they never let me do anything!" All gaining momentum and mutating with every pass.

"I'm not a baby. I'm being careful." He muttered. "I'm gonna do whatever I want." Shaynen stopped and stomped hard.

"And I don't want to go back to camp." He said decidedly. "I want to…" he struggled to find something he wanted that wasn't going back to camp. He relaxed his shoulders and stared at the ground, tapping his foot impatiently. Thinking about the small settlement in the making and the few things he could do.

"I want…" he said, drawing out every letter as he looked up at the rock walls. "I want to climb. I wanna see what mom's gonna make for dinner." Shaynen grabbed the wall and pulled himself up. Climbing bare handed with his holes made his hands ache. Since he had to rely more on his upper body strength instead of his legs. But between doing what his mother said and doing what she didn't want him to do, climbing through the soreness won easily. He thought about never climbing back down, just staying up high where no one could tell him what to do. Except he knew one of his parents would climb up after him and then he'd be in twice as much trouble.

The wall was short enough and Shaynen climbed up it slowly but eventually. Hauling himself up over the side and quickly crawling into the middle and out of sight of anyone on the roads, namely his mother. He snickered to himself as he lay on the dusty rock. Grinning mischievously as he knew his mother was none the wiser. Shaynen rolled over and got up on his hands and knees. Wiping the sharper rocks out from his path, he crawled along toward the edge.

His thoughts turned to what dinner could be. A few smaller creatures Shaynen couldn’t identify wandered around the roads. He saw mice and birds, heard something like a pack of dogs barking and howling at night. Trying to guess made him hungry, but less urgently hungry and more mildly peckish. He crouched down so that he wouldn’t be immediately spotted. Tiny noises drifted up to him from the butchering area below. Something he could barely make out as talking. He snickered again and peeked up over the edge of the ledge.

The grin slowly melted off his face, color draining from his face. He dropped back to the ground, out of sight. In the heat of the sun, he went abruptly cold. Stomach squeezing and flooding the back of his throat. He covered his mouth to stop himself from gagging. Shaynen stayed rolled in a ball with his hands clamped over his mouth. Eyes shut tight, static colors flashed around behind his eyelids. As his racing heart slowed, his stomach hurt from how tightly he was tensed.

Shaynen forcibly swallowed back the bile creeping up the back of his throat. He removed his hands from his face and started panic playing with the beads on his wrist. Twisting them around his wrist rapidly. Quick, semi-hysterical thoughts started flooding his mind. Half-forgotten words came to mind.

“What’s the difference?” He murmured. Hearing the words made them carry more weight. His arms rested against his stomach as he kept playing with the beads. His panic slowed into a hollow feeling. Followed by a strange calm and indifference.

“Beats being hungry?” He said slowly. Parroting words from the past, changing them to fit his chaotic storm of thought. Shaynen got to his hands and knees and started climbing away from the edge. Aware enough that he didn’t want his mother to know where he was. His entire body cringed at the idea of his mother trying to have a conversation about what he’d seen. It made his ears red and his throat burn.

He took a long, deep breath and laid out over the center of the rock. Staring up into the sky and sorting through the storm in his mind. He knew his parents would never intentionally hurt him. They never had before, maybe didn’t listen or made choices he wouldn’t have, but never maliciously. He knew his parents claimed to do what was best and that they knew best. Taking a step back to evaluate their actions, he decided he did truly believe that. Which built the foundation for the rest of the bridge of logic.

“Still feels a bit odd.” He decided. Sitting up, crossing his legs and fiddling with the beads. He jolted back to consciousness by his mother’s call from somewhere in the camp. He stood up and brushed off his pants. Climbing over the edge and back to the ground in the same place, he climbed up. Shaynen rounded the corner and ran into his mother.

“Oh, hey.” His mother said. The wind knocked slightly out of her. “What have you been doing?”

“What is there to do?” Shaynen mumbled. “And don’t say chores.” His mother laughed weakly.

“Okay,” she said, kneeling down and holding him. “I’m sorry you’re feeling a bit bored. You could swim if you wanted to? I’ll watch for you.”

“I dunno. I don’t like it much.” Shaynen said with another shrug.

“Well, I don’t know then, kid.” She stood up and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you use your imagination?”

“You don’t let me do anything.” Shaynen accused. His mother stared blankly.

“Still mad about the climbing thing?” She asked. He shrugged. “I see. Have you tried seeing it from my point of view?”

“Have you?” Shaynen scoffed. His mother sighed, rubbing at her eyes.

“Yes, I understand it’s your favorite thing to do. I know climbing is something you’ve been doing since you were born. I know it makes you feel better to be high up.” His mother said. Kneeling down with a little smile, brushing his hair out of his face. “I know that if you could, you’d fly and never touch the ground. But. You are my entire world. And if you fall, there is nothing to catch you.”

“I can catch me,” Shaynen said. “I know what to do if I fall. I’ve thought about it.”

“What do you do?”

“Flash.” Shaynen said. “And I take lots of care not to fall in the first place. I make hand and foot holds. I take lots of breaks and stretch lots too.” His mother looked at him, searching his face for a response.

“I haven’t yet,” he said.

“Yet.”

He glared at his mother to show his disapproval. She raised an eyebrow and caved in with a sigh.

“I’m not going to stop you, am I?” she asked, looking at the ground. Shaynen didn’t answer. He didn’t like how guilty he felt. He liked it less that his mother said nothing else either. Patting his shoulder and giving him a kiss on the forehead. She stood up and walked away into the camp. Shaynen watched the walk away, his feelings crumpled in his chest like paper.