The leaves on the trees flitting past them us mostly still green but there was a noticeable increase in the oranges, reds, and yellows. Autumn had arrived and with it a frosty wind from the north. It wasn't so noticeable on the ground near sea level, but up on the mountain or, worse, in the air, it was spitefully cold.
I was alright, but there were only so many clothes I could force you to put on that still let you wrap your arms around my neck which meant semi-frequent breaks between bursts of flying, which worked out well since I also needed time to recheck the compass jar. I was pretty nervous at first about checking it - what if I check it and it's pointing the exact opposite direction? - but after a while, I kind of got used to flying for a while, then finding a spot to land and checking it while you warmed up again.
