This is my first piece written in the present tense--and as you can see, this is one of those one-shots written in  darkorangereturns's universe. It's an experiment with the present tense, and with first-person perspective, both of which I plan to employ in Bowman's Wolves when I eventually decide it's time to begin production. This time, it's from Angel Tyrell's perspective--probably the only time I'm going to do this, considering he's her character now and I'd rather keep my hands off when it comes to developing her as a character, but I felt I needed some, shall we say, levity in my life. My dog started dying a couple weeks ago, you see, and I wanted to keep my spirits up, so what better way to do that than write? I've found that it works for me!

The story itself was inspired by, of course, a conversation I had with Dingo back in January on fA, I believe, on a sketch of Angel's last public appearance, other than 'A Long Way Down'. I clearly remember him talking about a potential first meeting, where she ended up landing in the water and had to be saved by Kurfust himself. My original intent was to tell that story in prose, but my thinking evolved when I got to that point, leading me to decide that Angel should already know who Kurfust is, which indirectly led me to make this story a spiritual, but not direct, sequel to 'Long Way Down'. Whether that goes over well or not remains to be seen, and I invite Dingo to offer his criticisms at his leisure. Hope you enjoy!

Two and a half kilometers over the ocean...

"Hey L.T.!" I cried, looking down on the resort speeding by below us. "How much longer?"

"Not much," Danvers answered as she finally stepped away from the cockpit. "We're just about there. Just gonna need you to take the spot."

"Roger that!" My goggles firmly secured on my face, I pull myself outward into the sunlight. Below me is the Great Sapphire Beach; the pride and joy of Griffon City, and home to one of the world's top tropical resorts. Naturally, there should be a pretty big crowd down there...

Yep! Starting to see signs of life here. Parasols, splashes of water, everything a beach needs this time of year!

Oh man, this is gonna be the greatest beach jump ever!

"One minute!" I hear the First Lieutenant call, bringing me back to reality.

"One minute!" comes the countersign from my teammates.

Damn, mind must've been wandering again. Couldn't have missed that patch of sand already, could I?

Okay. Reference the map at briefing. Look down. Nope, not there. Look where you're going...

Phew! Just saw that big patch of sand we're headed towards; that'll save my tail. I step back into the compartment and give Danvers a solid thumbs-up. "We're good to go, sir!"

"Nice job, Tyrell." The labrador nods, then gestures towards my teammates waiting patiently in line behind me. "Tech Sergeant Faulke, if you would please?"

My partner at the front of the line steps forward and meets me at the door. She's a red fox by the name of Sarah Faulke; red fur, of course, but with black hair that flows all the way down to the top of her parachute and a wiry build inconsistent with the soldiering lifestyle the Air Force loves to push onto people. In fact, she's the other skydiver that came on with me when I was added to the team. Her usual pair of nerdy glasses, which would betray the fact that she's one of our resident grease monkeys, sits comfortably in a case stashed within her dark pink jumpsuit pocket.

She grabs onto the white grips on my jumpsuit as I once again step out into the sky, returning the favor by grabbing onto her brighter grips. "Ready, Short Stuff?" she asks, hazel eyes locked onto mine as she reminds me of just how tiny I really am compared to everyone else on this flight. Even she, as small as she is for her species, towers over me.

Nevertheless, I'm not that easily discouraged. Not with the sky right behind me. "You kiddin', Titan? Angels gotta spread their wings sometime, right?"

My corny catchphrase gets a few laughs, but I've used it so many times in front of the team it may as well be on all our merch. The LT's heard it enough times that she practically ignores me and goes straight to the pep talk. Man, I really need a writer.

Suddenly, the plane behind and above us has a sudden outflux of people. Jumpers throwing themselves out the rear door like there's no tomorrow! There's only a couple things that could be, and we would've heard about one of them by now!

So I call out to Danvers: "The guys' team's started!"

That should be her cue to shut up and get everyone ready to go, and, yep, it is. But it looks like she's got a few more words in her mouth...

"Alright, Bluewings; you ready to hit the beach?!"

"Yeah!" sounds the flock.

"You ready to show these landlubbers what a real good time looks like?!"

"Yeah!"

"Alright then, ladies; let's have some fun!"

I can't see much with Sarah in the way, but it looks like she's giving her 'all good' hand signal to our pilots. The red light that got me out to make the spot in the first place blinks out above my partner's head.

Any second now...

I close my eyes, but I can still hear Faulke whispering the exit protocol, and feel her getting into the right posture.

The flicker of that green light is enough to get me into position and finish her train of thought. "..and jump!" I cry, springing out the door and pulling Sergeant Faulke out with me as I open my eyes again. It's her that belts out the traditional "Geronimo!" as the Caravan above us falls away and the next pair, Staff Sergeant Becky Locke the marble fox and my fellow Airman Amy Targaryen, a grey wolf, leap out into the sunlight. We're out and away!

Just a few seconds after we jump, Faulke lets go of my arms and swings around before her left hand finds my right, and Targaryen takes my left. It's not long before we've all built a nice, solid, colorful circle of eight, with our team captain, Lieutenant Danvers, taking the position just across from me.

Below us, the guys' team's started to break up. I spot three bright dots blooming as Lieutenant Halsey allows those early birds to leave the nest and fly around on their own. I can already see some of our audience down below running off to our LZ to watch us glide in and take in the atmosphere. It's a beautiful day out here; can't blame 'em for wanting to see parachutes!

Targaryen swivels her head towards me; she's very much all smiles as the wind blows past her fur. That red and black jumpsuit of hers looks great up here! I can see her trying to howl for us, but much to her dismay, our free fall is not going to allow it. Doesn't stop her from laughing about it, though!

And besides, we're up here to have fun, right? It's not like we're being graded on anything! Not every day you jump out of the blue to fall towards the blue!

But sadly, all good things must come to an end. Danvers pulls away from her partners, Doberman Master Sergeant Silvia Aguirre and golden retriever Senior Airman Angelina Rivers, and gives us the signal to break formation and split up. We need space to open our parachutes, after all, and this wouldn't be ideal!

Sarah and I exchange glances as we let go of each other and Locke, in her pink and yellow jumpsuit, turns and tracks towards the beach. We were talking about this just last night; Danvers told us it'd be safer for us to open over land, in case our 'chutes fail and we need to use our reserves, but let's be honest; everyone's going to be looking out towards the ocean anyway. Why not pop our parachutes where they can see 'em?

We both nod. It's time to commence Operation Tropical Snowstorm!

Ha, made that one up myself. Anyway.

Once Danvers and Rivers've cleared out, we angle ourselves towards the ocean and follow Aguirre until she levels out and pops her silver and black parachute. Once she's out of the way, we pull out of the dive ourselves and turn to face each other. I check my altimeter; if we've planned this right, we should have enough altitude to glide back towards the beach and get into a good landing pattern.

Yep, we've got just over six hundred meters to go; we'll be fine. I stick my free hand out and give Faulke a thumbs up to show that all's well; she responds with one of her own and a very pleased nod.

Then she waves me off, reaches for the ripcord on her parachute, and gives it a nice tug. Rainbow-colored nylon bursts out of her pack, pulling her up and out of sight as she grabs onto her shoulder straps and hangs on for dear life! I catch myself waving goodbye as I watch it blossom open above me; not exactly professional, but hey, noone else'll see it but her and me, I'll be fine.

Alright! Time for me to do the same! I grab onto my cord and pull it with a great big smile on my face; it's time to fly!

...Okay, why am I still falling? Where's the big fwumph I'm used to? My ripcord had the right amount of give, so why is it...?

Wait a second, what's that crinkling noise? I look up to check it out--Oh crap! My parachute's all snarled up on something; the lines are twisted... but it's nothing I can't fix, thank goodness. Problem is, that'll take a while, and I don't think I'll be making it to the LZ like this... Sigh.

Sorry Sarah; looks like I'm in for some water practice!

Steeling myself in the face of this disaster of an opening, I swing forward, grab onto my risers and kick out the line twists. Slowly but surely, I straighten my falling self out and realize I'm pointing towards the beach already. Well, that's part one of my self-preservation scheme done and dusted.

Now all I gotta do is tug, tug, tug on the risers and see what the hell's going on with this 'chute... Hmmm, looks like I packed the slider too high--must've forgotten to repack after last night. Dammit! Better keep on tuggin'. Come on, open...

*FWUMPH!*

There we go! That's the sound I needed to hear! An apologetic tug on the rest of my body accompanies the big snowflake on my parachute as its metaphorical shroud pulls away to reveal it and form the rest of my fabric wing as it slows my fall, just like it should have before. And I didn't even consider pulling my reserve! Ha!

...I take that back! The ocean's too close for comfort now; that spare would've been useful right about now! "No, no, no, no!" I panic, curling myself up into a little ball, just like the Air Force taught me, before hitting the water with a pretty hard splash.

I quickly realize I'd shut my eyes just before impact. When I open them again, once I'd returned to normal posture, I'm surrounded by clear, blue-tinted water, the ocean floor at least ten, fifteen meters below my feet. Step two and three of my plan came earlier than I expected. Already, I can hear step four passing through my brain: get to the surface, check on the situation.

If what I know about the beach is right, I shouldn't be in any danger of my 'chute falling over me. The breeze'll push it away for me and I'll be up and out in a jiffy--then all I have to do is explain to Lieutenant Danvers why I'm soaking wet and my parachute is floating in the water. I push my arms downward and kick my feet, confident this was only a set-back.

Gah! What the hell did I just surface into? A lazy raft?

Making a mental note to watch where I'm going next time, I reach my arms up and push against the roadblock... which I quickly notice has a giant white snowflake emblazoned upon it. Dammit, of course the wind isn't on my side! It must've stopped blowing when I hit the drink!

Great, now I probably look like an idiot. Kids must be laughing their tails off right now. Ha, not sure I can blame 'em!

Okay, given the situation, I'm gonna have to move onto step five, not step seven: get out from under your parachute as soon as possible.

Once again, my Air Force parachute training kicks in; with the snowflake part of my 'chute giving me adequate breathing space, I start pushing at the rest of the canopy in search of a--whoa!

Okay, full disclosure: I came up with that plan in a hurry. I thought I could get the rig off after I was out of my 'chute; nope! Lieutenant Halsey had recommended getting the rig off first. Now I'm paying the price for ignoring him.

See, in my hurry to get back into the sunlight and assure my little audience that I'm okay, I've just gotten myself tangled up in my own shroud lines. Nothing ever seems to go right today, does it?

I honestly wish I could get the rig off right now, but unfortunately, I've basically hogtied myself. My right hand's trapped, and... oh, wait... Dammit! I can reach the reserve cord with my left, but I can't pull it out far enough to cut my main away--not with the lines this tense.

Let's face it, I'm pretty much dead. Can't move, can't ditch my parachute... hell, can't even swim very well with my legs like this, so resurfacing might be out of the question.

May as well just close my eyes and wait for the end...

A muffled splash forces them open again; I see a dark canine of some kind diving through the waves. Looks like he's in swimming trunks, so he can't be part of the guys' team; they were still aloft and headed to the LZ, last I saw them. One thing's for sure though; he'd have definitely seen my failure of a landing.

Now his head's on a swivel.

Looking for me.

He almost immediately spots my predicament and swims towards me. As he draws closer, new details come to light; firstly, I can tell he's a German Shepherd. Second, his swimming trunks are blue. Third... Oh jeez, is this who I think it is?

By the time the Shepherd reaches me, my eyes start to droop. Consciousness isn't going to last much longer... Come on, Angel, stay awake! He's untangling your lines! You're going to be alright!

Okay, hands are free, let's... wait, is he carrying me to the surface?

I start coughing up a storm as soon as my head clears the surface, my eyes firmly squeezed shut as I recover all the air I'd wasted in my entanglement. Literally as soon as I stop hacking, I notice my savior floating next to me, who I'm now 100% certain is Kurt Klendathu, my friend Dora's older brother.

One of her older brothers... She's got a lot of older brothers! Gah, doesn't really matter.

"Thank you..." I speak up, still a little woozy from the near-death experience.

Kurt seems intent on returning my kindness when I hear a shrill "omigosh!" coming from the shore, snapping me back to my senses, for the most part. I look to my left and spot Sarah's face sticking out from under her parachute. She must've dove down to the beach when she saw my parachute failing and rushed over here; only reason she'd ever just pull her 'chute down on top of her and run with it. "Angel, are you alright?" she asks, clearly concerned for my well-being. "I saw you hit the water and... and it didn't look good!"

I just nod, knowing my rescuer would want to know the same thing. "Yeah, I'm okay. Would've drowned if it weren't for Kurfust here."

"You're welcome," I hear the Shepherd respond, smiling as he lets me slip back into the water. As I get to work undoing my harness so I can wade safely back to shore, I hear him call for someone to help carry my parachute back onto dry land; another splash later, I'm free from my little 'makeshift' moor and on my way back.

Sergeant Faulke lets her parachute drop to the ground as we share a quick friendly hug after I come ashore--and spot a shadow creeping its way along the sand. "Alright, make way for the Bluewing!" I hear Lieutenant Danvers call as she swoops in from above; the crowd behind us makes space as she flares and lands, lavendar and pink nylon settling to the ground behind her as she strides up to meet us.

Are we in trouble?

"Angel, I'm relieved to see you're safe. I thought we'd lost you when you didn't come up."

Maybe we aren't! Huh, seems death has a way of making us overlook the rules. Still, it never hurts to apologize. "Sorry I made you worry, Lana," I speak up, tail tucked between my legs and ears drooping in sorrow. "My parachute failed, and I tried to save it instead of popping my reserve. I-I couldn't help it."

The Lieutenant put her hands on her hips... as though she could see right through me. "Really?" the Labrador asks, eyebrow raised. "Then why did Master Sergeant Aguirre tell me she saw you and Tech Sergeant Faulke tracking over the ocean--when I specifically told you not to do that during briefing?"

Yep, we're in trouble. Sarah's looking pretty uncomfortable right now; can't say I blame her now that we've been called out. "We, uh..." she stammers, trying to come up with a good cover story--to no avail.

Now honesty was the best policy. "We thought it'd be better for the civilians if we opened our parachutes where they could see them," I explain. "Most people aren't looking directly overhead when they're at the beach. Besides, you only said it was safer to open over the beach; you didn't say anything about not doing it over the ocean."

"I said it was safer," she retorts as she undid her harness, leaving it behind her for when she was done berating us. "I wouldn't be talking to you right now if both your parachutes opened like they should have, but yours didn't. If Faulke had been in your situation, she may not have made it the same way you did. That would have been much, much worse than what you just went through."

"...Yes, ma'm." we both reply, hesitating at the thought of each other drowning in their parachutes.

"Now, Sergeant Faulke, I have no reason to punish you; you knew what you were doing and rushed down to aid Tyrell when you saw what happened to her parachute. I admire that," the Lieutenant continues. "You carry on; join your teammates."

And so Faulke did, towing her parachute behind her to the designated gear dispersal area Halsey should have set up for us by now. I should follow her, but I sense that Danvers has more to say to me. "As for you, Airman Tyrell, your recklessness and, from what I can tell, failure to properly maintain your gear not only put your own life at risk, but also your teammate's as well. Therefore, I will recommend to Halsey that you be grounded from team activities for two weeks."

I nod in understanding--although I do feel my temper trying to get the better of me. "Yes, ma'm," I reply dutifully.

A tap on the shoulder gets me to turn around; it's Kurfust, bringing me my, uh, very wet parachute! "Here you go," he smiles, handing me the bundle after I slip the upper part of my harness back on. I thank him before returning to attention.

"Don't worry, you'll still perform at the Military Championship next week," she reassures me, "and I'm not about to keep you from your Pararescue duties either." She raises a finger, though. "But you'll only jump with us for practice and our performance until that expires. Do you understand?"

Well, yeah, I understand; I can still jump at my DZ as a civilian, for one thing, and I do enjoy practice. Besides, it's not like I'll be kept from doing my job either, so this is perfectly fine with me! I nod approvingly. "Yes, ma'm!" I repeat, before saluting Danvers with my free hand and speeding off towards the LZ.