skyscapes | ( do we need to guess who this is for at this point )

( do we need to guess who this is for at this point )

Everyone had a threshold for dealing with shit and Harry had finally exceeded his.

Amid all the threats and not-so-accidental accidents, Octavius finally made a move. It was only thanks to an overpowered stun-gun Peter made him that Harry escaped. Octavius had gotten arrogant, moved just close enough to get in range, then ZAP. Both Octavius and the tentacles went on a fritz, throwing Harry to the ground. He was lucky to have gotten away with nothing worse than a gash on his shoulder and a mess of bruises from the encounter. But more than anything, it simply wasn't enough just to survive Octavius anymore.

Harry knew - now more than ever - that he needed to fight back. He needed to save himself from this guy. --But how? Even the stun-gun could only do so much.

And then he kept wandering into the study for long periods of time, staring at the mirror, long since replaced to hide the lair behind it once more. The serum was gone. Destroyed. But the weaponry, the materials, the blueprints... all of that was still in there. Granted, he couldn't use any of it as is. It belonged to the Goblin, and Harry wouldn't follow in those dark footsteps. If he wanted to use them, he had to become something else; he had to redesign everything.

...But could he? Harry was no genius, after all.

And yet - while that was true, he was resourceful and creative-- and he did exactly what he set out to do. Not without blunder, of course. There were plenty of mishaps and imperfections, but he had access to the programs, the blueprints, the materials his father had left behind. With them, Harry was able to create a new suit, a new glider, new weapons-- all entirely of his own design. He started out just tentatively flying around in abandoned subway tunnels, building confidence in himself and his tech. Especially trying to keep a low profile. This was just to fight Octavius, he told himself. He didn't need any attention on him; he didn't want Peter finding out until he was sure he could pull this off. And he had honestly meant to avoid heroics-- but then one day, he saw someone in trouble on his way to his makeshift training grounds. It seemed too cruel not to help.

They had been so grateful, and for the first time in a long time, Harry was proud of himself. He actually made a difference! It was an exhilarating feeling.

After that, he made more of an effort to help people before heading off to the subway tunnels. He still tried to stay low-key about it, but a new guy swooping in to save people was bound to get some attention. Today, he was even using the opportunity to test out a new gadget: a snare he'd built from razor bat scraps. It was supposed to lock onto a target and - when within range - break open and shoot out a cord that would ideally restrain said target. He was hoping to figure out a way to tie down Octavius' smart arms with it, but he figured this stupid mugger - trying to take off with some lady's purse - was as good of practice as any. The lock-on feature worked great, but the cord thing? ...Not so much. It just kind of ended up clotheslining the guy more than anything. ...Oops.

Thanks to that, Harry ended up staying behind longer than he wanted to, making sure the woman got her stuff back and that the mugger was properly restrained this time. In a hurry not to draw any more attention to himself than he already had, he was quick to return to his glider and hurtle off into the sky, hoping to get to the abandoned subway tunnels without further incident.

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"I mean-- he knows about Octavius. Hell, it's only 'cause of his help that I even got away. He just doesn't know about--" Harry gestured to his suit, the glider. "And I don't wanna say anything until I know I can do this. ...If I can do this. The last thing he needs right now is to be worrying about me getting myself killed."

Harry nodded. "I figured, I don't have superhuman strength or anything. If I get hit, it's going to mess me up either way so... I'd better focus on speed so I don't get hit." If only he thought ahead like that more often. "Really? I mean-- that'd be great!"

Alright, maybe you're not a total asshole after all, Spider-Man. Harry was a complete open book when he swelled up, both touched and proud. "Thank you. That means a lot, Spider-Man." All he needed was somebody to give him a chance. He wanted so badly to step out from under his dad's shadow.

What a show-off. Harry couldn't think of a witty comeback before Spider-Man launched off the building, so he just slid his mask back on and jumped on the glider to follow him. Besides, this didn't compare to chasing around muggers and petty criminals. Superheroes were in a league of their own and Harry had very little experience. He was inclined to take that remark seriously and focus on staying close to Spider-Man.

Peter barely held back a snort, instead just nodding. Harry doesn't know Spiderman, it'd be weird for him to give him any further advice. It's both sweet and self-sacrificingly dumb for Harry to keep this from Peter; luckily, he isn't, whether he knows it or not.

"Yeah not getting hit is - you'll be grateful you didn't." Even if it was just Otto and his robot arms, Peter had been hit with plenty of robotic-esque things to know they were stronger than your average carjacker. He didn't know if Harry's armor would be able to really protect him if he was thrown through a building, god forbid. "Yeah we can run a diagnostic on it."

Again, he stayed silent, merely nodding. Harry looked so proud, like it really had been a confidence booster. Poor guy. It was still only Peter, but he'd keep the reinforcement going if it helped.

The thing about webslinging is, Peter's hard to follow even when he's not trying to evade. He's fast, a pendulum down the streets, all of his turns very abrupt as the web momentum yanks him this way and that. He lets out a whoop, navigating through the streets towards the abandoned warehouse district.

"Already been hit. Wasn't fun," Harry remarked, making a face. His ribs were all sorts of banged up for a while from taking a metal arm to the chest. He'd be just fine if that never happened again, thanks. But he supposed he'd rather take that over Octavius's fancy new stabbing tools. Harry was just glad Octavius only got his shoulder and not his heart with those. "Yeah?" He's started to grin a little in spite of himself. "Do you have a special Spidey computer? I bet you have a ball with web jokes."

A Spider-Man web site. Hah!

For the most part, Harry's training had always been at his own pace. He's never had someone to to compare himself to. It's always just been confidence building down in the tunnels. Now Harry realized how inadequate his training had probably been for what he wanted to do with it. He found himself struggling a little to keep up with Spider-Man.

And his fighting abilities were even worse. This was going to be embarrassing. He hoped this guy wasn't the sort to make fun of him for it, and he'd better not tell him just to go home. Harry refused to give up; he needed to be able to fix this.

"Where?" Peter couldn't help but ask, frowning underneath his mask. The idea that Harry had already had an altercation with Otto was more than a little worrying, especially since Peter hadn't known about it until now. "Hardly. You'll see - my Spidey cave is nothing to write home about."

"Oh god," Peter groaned, throwing his arms up. "They haunt me, everywhere I go."

Peter lead them down the path less travelled, with fewer pedestrians. They didn't need people misconstruing the two of them as 'NEW GOBLIN CHASES SPIDERMAN'. That wouldn't be helpful in the slightest. He took Harry through the warehouse district, weaving in and out of the buildings until he stopped, clinging to the side of one, next to a broken window. He jerked his head, nodding Harry in, before slipping inside himself.

The top of the warehouse, the little upper landing they've entered on, has a shitty mattress and what looks like a bunch of random junk. Stuff Peter rescued while dumpster diving, for future use in repairing and/or developing his webshooters. He's got a makeshift setup to make his web fluid, and a cooler where he can store food, in addition to some extra changes of clothes and a first aide kit. "Welcome to Casa de Spiderman."

"Um--" Harry hesitated, feeling a little awkward talking about injuries. They hadn't been serious. His shoulder had long scabbed over and his ribs - he didn't think he'd broken anything but had avoided the hospital - were okay now. He managed to sound fairly calm for someone who was still scared shitless of Octavius; it's mostly bravado. "He hit me once in the chest and got me a little on the shoulder with one of the blades. Nothing too bad."

His grin pulled a little wider - he couldn't help it. "Sorry, I had to ask."

Spider-Man had been on the news often enough, but no one ever really got clear shots of him most of the time. Harry never saw him in action before, and now that he didn't have to worry about getting his face punched in, he had to admit: it was pretty cool. The guy was really agile and seeing him cling to walls was pretty trippy.

Where they ended up was surprising. Harry had kind of expected something... fancier? Guess Spider-Man wasn't kidding about the state of his headquarters, but not everyone could have an Avengers Tower. He hovered inside carefully and shut the glider down once his feet were on the floor. Any smart-ass remark Harry might have made about it was forgotten when he saw Spider-Man's web fluid setup; his mask retracted and revealed a look of amazement.

"Whoa, you make your own webs? I always thought it was just... one of your superpowers or something."

It's not like anyone ever got close enough to look at his wrists to confirm or deny it.

"Doesn't sound like nothing. Next time you get hurt, you find me, okay? I know a thing or two about patching up, you won't have to go to a hospital." And it's more than just super-healing-first-aide, he stitches the Devil up occasionally (usually if he's unconscious, he's not really one to pop in asking for help, so). Besides, he's not as hard to find as people make it out to be - he runs a pretty consistent beat, actually.

"I'd just like to point out that a spider is an arachnid, not a bug. So the bug boy jokes are really irrelevant." Okay, maybe he's echoing Harry's smile a little.

Therein lay Peter's anonymity problem - he was pretty much the only photographer who could ever get a good picture of Spiderman. He's already had a few people ask him about it, though he was quick to beg them off each time.

Peter chuckled, shooting a web to hang upside down from the ceiling. It was more comfortable, being up high, and in costume he didn't have to hide it. "Most people assume. I'd like to keep it that way, if you don't mind. The less people know, the less they can fuck with me." People didn't attempt to disable his webs if they thought they were organic.

"But yeah, I mix it myself. Not gonna lie, kinda based it off Oscorp organic fiber." And that's where he buys his supplies, on the DL, but he won't divulge that to Harry, presently.

"Next time?" Harry earnestly hadn't thought about getting injured again or what he'd do if he was. Even in his final confrontation with Octavius, he had pictured it as being relatively straightforward. For all his self-doubt, he hadn't actually thought about being defeated. Hearing that brought him back down to earth in a jarring sort of way, but Harry tried not to look unnerved. "I hope I won't need to, but... thanks. I'll remember that."

Oh, geez. How come Harry couldn't go anywhere without people trying to make him learn stuff? "What's the difference?" he asked before he could think better of it.

"Sure, I won't say any--" He was so busy marveling that he hadn't noticed Spider-Man zip up to the ceiling until he turned to look at him and then realized-- up. He stopped mid-sentence and did a double take. So weird. It's not like Harry'd been around a superhero before. He stared before remembering he'd been saying something. "Uh-- yeah. No, that makes sense. My lips are sealed."

"No kidding?" Who'd have thought? "Nice to know, actually." To know that their work had contributed to something nice instead of just... all the bad stuff. "How strong is it? I mean, it must be pretty tough if it can hold up against all that swinging."

Peter just watched Harry process that, resisting the urge to shake his head. Dear lord, Harry, how would you ever survive without him? Peter's not convinced Harry's sense of self-preservation is any better than his (re: log). "Plan for the worst, you know?" Better to have a back-up plan than be up the creek without a paddle. Not that Peter followed his own advice, but hey: do as I say, not as I do, right?

"Insects have three body components whereas arachnids have two. Insects, six legs; arachnids, eight legs." He's full of useless information, sorry.

He barely held in a laugh when Harry openly did a double take, instead choosing to raise a hand in an upside down wave. There's a reason Peter locks his door before curling up in the corner of the ceiling. Better to be a weirdo in skintight spandex. "And mine, about your tech."

"Not the same formula, but the concept is an awesome one." Peter also strengthened his formula, and magnetized the webshooters (which involved some minor adjustments to the fluid, to keep it from conducting electricity). He'd been working on making it flame retardant, as well, but he wasn't quite there yet. "It has a tensile strength of roughly 120 pounds per square millimeter. So it can hold about...3048 pounds per inch. At 300 p.s.i., no less."

Well, Harry probably wouldn't. His heart was usually in the right place, but his mind... Not as much. Somehow, Harry and Peter did better at watching out for each other rather than themselves. "Right," Harry agreed with that lopsided smile of his-- the one that said he was suddenly very aware of his flawed thought process. "I can do that." Probably.

"Ugh. I swear, I'm a nerd beacon." Harry rubbed his temples, more humorously than anything as evidenced by the joking: "I thought superheroes were supposed to be cool?" Yes, let's sass the guy who's offering to help you out, Harry. Great idea.

"I guess you take your name pretty seriously." Skittering around on ceilings and everything.

Even Harry, the guy who went out of his way to avoid science when he could, recognized that was a pretty big deal. His brows scaled his forehead, jaw dropping a bit. "You're kidding! That's amazing. Nothing we've come up with at Oscorp even comes close. I'm kinda tempted to offer you a job."

Honestly, it was a little ridiculous that they went to such great lengths to take care of each other and such a poor job at managing their own lives. At least he's made Harry reflect on everything, to an extent. Even Peter had those moments of, what am I doing?

"Uh, excuse you, I'm the epitome of cool. Red and blue spandex doesn't scream 'chick magnet' to you?" His light tone said otherwise, grin splitting his face beneath the mask. "Maybe don't run the biggest name in biological research. Just an idea. But what do I know?"

"It comes with the territory." Peter had never given much thought to how the bite had affected him, beyond the obvious changes. Gwen made a list once, though. It was...yeah.

"Well clearly you need to upgrade your facilities to trashy warehouse chic." Peter spread his arms and laughed warmly. "Is there a dress code? Kind of fond of the mask."

"Well, I mean--" Harry scratched the side of his face, as if considering Spider-Man's rhetorical question. "I guess if you're into that?" He offered a noncommittal shrug. "If only I had a choice." Technically, he did, but he was trying to refrain from letting 'give up on Oscorp' be an option.

"I don't judge. As long as you don't command a little spider army." Harry didn't mind spiders, but he didn't particularly like them either and that would be a little bit horrifying. "...You can't do that, right?"

The laughter was a little bit infectious and Harry found himself chuckling along some. "Is that what you call this?" Trashy warehouse chic? "Usually nothing less than business casual. Maybe if you just wear a suit and lab coat over the costume... Should be fine."

It would look ridiculous.

"Oh, jesus, no, I do not have a spandex fetish." Hasty handwaving, on Peter's part. Sometimes it's difficult to tell when he's kidding, with the mask on - either that, or Harry's fucking with him, because it is Harry. "If anyone's going to turn it around, it would be you. Or we dismantle it from the inside, but I'd rather it not come to that."

"No," Peter snorted, shaking his head. "Although I do tend to collect them. Like they're drawn to me, sometimes. It's weird. Word on the street is there's a guy who can control ants. Weirdest superpower I've ever heard of." If Peter could control spiders, New York would have a 0% crime rate within a day.

"It's nothing if not grunge." Peter flipped forward, ass over head, and landed in a crouch in front of Harry. "Uh huh. I'm assuming I'd be paid in cash every week, since you can't write a check to 'Spiderman'."

Okay, okay, you caught him. Harry was trying to be a little bit of a butt. "Like I said, I don't judge." He held his hands up in front of him before adding with a slight chuckle, "I was just kidding, sorry." His smile eased into something a little more genuine, his gaze dodging to the floor. Vocalizing his doubts about his ability to make Oscorp better weren't really something he wanted to divulge to a stranger, so he kept quiet and took Spider-Man's belief in him gratefully.

"Oh boy," Harry remarked in the most deadpan of tones. Granted, he was just imagining some Snow White-esque scenario in terms of collecting spiders. "...Normally, I'd say that's the lamest superpower ever, but I don't want to end up like that Russian guy from the last Indiana Jones movie." Getting dragged off and munched on by a bunch of huge safari ants? Nooo thanks.

"Geez--" It kept catching him off guard how nimble Spider-Man was. "You're an Olympian under that mask, aren't you?" Only half-joking. "Hey, if you were serious, I'd do whatever to keep you." But the media would probably manage to find a way to make that look bad. Like... 'Oscorp brainwashes Spider-Man!' He had to refrain from groaning out loud at how annoying that would be.

"You little shit," Peter laughed, shaking his head at the Osborn heir. "I'm so kicking your ass in training. Fair warning." Peter didn't pursue the issue, knowing full well that Harry was sending signals to Not Talk About It.

"I'll catch them and leave them on your balcony, smart ass." Peter challenged, smirking beneath the mask. He would, too. Of course Peter would be the Snow White of spiders. This was his life now. "Snails would be the lamest. They'd never be able to catch anybody."

"I wish. Does this place look like I'm paid handsomely?" Peter snorted and moved over to the edge of the landing, nodding towards the big, open warehouse. It had chains, where he'd practiced his swinging, along with some dips and cobbled-together ramps for his skateboarding. "Oh, yeah? Draw up a contract, buddy, we'll see."

"I'm pretty sure you were gonna do that anyway," Harry replied honestly with a thin, knowing smile. It's not like he had a lot of experience, after all. Nothing that would put him on par with someone like Spider-Man.

"You have to figure out where I live first," Harry shot back. Does he sing badly to the spiders, too? "Okay, yeah-- that would be really sad. What are snails even good for anyway?" Wait-- no. Harry held a hand up, firmly shaking his head. "That wasn't an invitation for another nerd lesson. Please."

Once Spider-Man gestured to the warehouse, Harry followed him and gave the rest of the hideout a more of a look-over. "Could just be a cover? It's hard to get resources without bringing attention to yourself." That, he had plenty of experience on. Exhibit A: "You should see all the failed prototypes for my sword. I had to pretty much figure it out for myself or I'd get all these people asking me why I was having swords made. That'd look great for my image." He honestly didn't think the warehouse was all that bad though. "This is still pretty cool. You did it all yourself, right?"

"Well, maybe I will."

"But now I have motivation," Peter snorted, stretching out his shoulders. If they were going to spar - and Peter teach Harry some moves, potentially - he'd need to be stretched out properly.

"...really? You think it'd be hard to find out where Harry Obsorn lives?" Come on, it's almost insulting - it took zero skill to find that information. "Hey!" Peter laughed, too caught off guard to be indignant. They were falling into their regular banter, and even though it was making him a little nervous that Harry might catch him - well, it was still Harry.

"Haven't signed over my soul to Tony Stark's candy-ass boy band, so no health benefits for Spidey." Peter tilted his head, smiling despite himself. He should be more worried that Harry was testing weapons without him but - well, come on, the sword was pretty cool. "Swords are a little more conspicuous than buying chemicals for webbing, I'll give you that one." Or the multiple trips to Hobby Lobby for spandex. They probably thought he was a fetishist.

"Homegrown superhero," Peter snorted to himself, shooting a web and swinging down to the ground, rattling a few chains on the way. "Alright, Osborn, let's see what you've got."

"Oh, how great for me. I hope you pull your punches." If Harry sounded a little nervous about sparring with Spider-Man, it's probably because he was. He wasn't exactly prepared for this and... admittedly, he was afraid of making an ass of himself.

"It's not like I advertise where my home is!" But Spider-Man wasn't wrong. Octavius had figured it out easily enough, and the reminder made Harry quickly swallow his words. Who else could come after him if they wanted to? Shaking off the thought, Harry eagerly moved on.

Harry opened his mouth to make some remark about Stark, then thought better of it. He probably shouldn't shit-talk an Avenger to another superhero. It wasn't exactly a mystery that he wasn't fond of Tony Stark, but he had to at least be semi-professional about it now. Cue a lopsided and amused grin instead of words.

Well, Spider-Man was something all right. He made all this look so easy. The glider whirred back to life and autopiloted over to Harry, who still stared over the edge of the landing, trying his damnedest not to look like a deer in the headlights. This is what they were here for, after all-- not to make small talk. He was only partially successful in his endeavor, but hopped on the glider to ease his way down to Spider-Man's level all the same. "Okay... well." He rubbed his neck, taking a breath. "Where do you want me to start? Flying or--"

Or the thing he had minuscule experience with: fighting.

"If I didn't I could kill you," It's half-teasing, half-honest truth. Peter beckoned Harry forward, though, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the concrete below. This is for Harry's benefit, though, to learn, so he's not going to just take the piss. He's going to try to teach - and Peter's fighting was a mess, relying heavily on acrobatics and his spidey sense. This should be interesting.

"Bet you ten bucks I could literally ask any reporter."

After three years, you'd think he'd have something to show for it. He waited, watching Harry glide down to him, taking in the new flight pattern. Seemed he could call the glider without saying anything, and it was pretty quiet, save for the gentle whirring; Peter wouldn't be able to hear it if he wasn't listening specifically. "I'm going to work under the assumption that you can fly, since we don't have the equipment to tinker."

"I think we should start slow. I'll come at you, and you just try to keep away." That's essentially what Otto would be doing, anyway.

"That's very comforting." Gulp.

"No-- I'd really rather not know how easy it is to find me." Really. It would just make him even more paranoid.

The glider itself had two different modes: the standard mode and then what he had just ended up dubbing 'skateboard mode'. At the press of a switch, the propulsion of the glider could pivot, changing the way it maneuvered. 'Skateboard mode' had the benefit of being faster and more accustomed to narrow places, while the standard mode was more stable and easier for Harry to balance. He would switch between them freely but rely more heavily on the standard mode. Speeding through long subway tunnels was one thing. In here, he'd probably just knock himself out.

Back up, the mask went. He'd crashed enough times on his own to know that he didn't want to leave his face guard down for this. "Okay," he said, taking another deep breath before bending his knees into a more prepared stance on the glider. "I'm ready."

"My bedside manner is impeccable."

"You sure? I mean are you really sure?" He spread his hands, deceptively unprepared even as Harry put up his defenses, readied his glider. Part of Spiderman's advantage was the ability to come out of seemingly nowhere. "You tell me to stop if I come close to actually hurting you, okay? Seriously."

And then Peter's in the air, swinging over Harry's head and shooting a web at his shoulder, from behind, in an attempt to disorient. He's also quick, flighty, probably moreso than Otto, which would be good practice.

"Uh--" Regrets are being had, even as Harry knew this would be helpful to him in the long run. It was the general prospect of being up against a super-everything guy that could stick to walls - even in practice - that he found intimidating. No accidental hurting, please. "Sure thing!"

But don't worry. If Harry feels like he's in any actual danger, he will definitely let it be known. Probably with flailing and yelling.

Right off the bat, it was a strain to keep track of Spider-Man, so Harry didn't even try. If he could just keep a general idea of the guy's position, that should - hopefully - be enough. For now, Harry just focused on staying away and immediately jetted off into the opposite direction Spider-Man went, narrowly avoiding the web as he went weaving into a half-circle that would turn him around to face the superhero again.

That's assuming he wasn't already still on the move.

Harry dodges his first attack, which makes Peter smile. Whatever solo training he'd been doing had certainly paid off. Peter launched himself at Harry again, this time shooting several globs of webbing in an attempt to either a) get Harry to swerve towards Peter or b) hit him with some webbing. Or perhaps the glider was agile enough to let Harry through unscathed; it'd be a good test, to see.

"Not half bad," Peter's on Harry's right, swinging off the wall, feet first, towards him.

Thinking on the fly was something fairly new to Harry. The glider is remarkable agile, but it still depended on Harry's piloting skills to put it to good use and there was plenty of room to improve. He'd have vocally appreciated the compliment if he weren't so preoccupied. Instinct told him to swerve, so he swerved and actually managed to dodge the first couple of globs. Not quite so lucky with the others. He flew straight into two of them, which knocked him off-kilter when they thumped him square in the chest.

So distracted by trying to maintain his balance, Harry almost didn't see Spider-Man flying towards him from the right. He cried out in surprise and ended up tipping forward, almost immediately dropping out of the air to swerve underneath Spider-Man's feet. He was able to quickly right himself with some arm flailing before pulling back up to a reasonable height, but he was a far cry from being stable.

If Spider-Man was quick to follow up, Harry would most likely either fall off or crash into something.

The problem is, if Peter was Otto? Those globs of webbing could have been bombs, or claws. And with Harry off balance - well, that was the time to strike. Harry narrowly dodged him, and Peter shot another web to keep his momentum going, using it to backflip and reverse direction. How did Otto get around? Was his mode of transportation as flexible as Peter's, or a little more structured, like Harry's?

Peter came at him again, this time from above. Alternating direction was one of his tactics for distraction and disorientation. If the enemy couldn't guess where you'd be coming from, they couldn't prepare.

He also hasn't factored in Harry falling. That's a worst case scenario that would probably end in Peter diving to save him, for obvious reasons.

If this was Spider-Man holding back, Harry'd hate to see him actually trying to take someone down. The distraction worked like a charm. He wasn't used to having to track someone else. Muggers were nothing compared to this, and he hadn't seen Octavius in action enough for it to be much help.

He knew he screwed up when he couldn't correct himself and Spider-Man was already coming at him again. It had to be a split-second decision, and the only thing he could do to get out of the way in time was push the glider into going faster. It would have been a lot safer just to crash into Spider-Man, he belatedly realized when he promptly crashed into a chain. "Whoa--!" The glider shot out from under him as he clutched to the chain, but it soon compensated. With its pilot gone, it began beeping and blinking red, tracking Harry until it was hovering underneath him.

Even with the glider poised to catch him, Harry just... dangled on the chain for a minute, sucking in a deep breath. "This is not how I imagined this would go." It was something of an eye-opener, too. This was a lot harder than he thought it would be. Don't mind him while he tries to shimmy down the chain, because he's too afraid to jump off and hope the glider will catch him. He wiggled his feet when he got close to the bottom, searching for the footholds on the glider before slowly letting go.

"Okay..." He held his hands out, steadying himself. "It's fine. I'm good."

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