//------------------------------//
// Four 
// Story: Salmon Run 
// by mushroompone 
//------------------------------//

On the fourth day of the migration, Night Glider awoke from her midair nap to find herself over the ocean.

The dark waters churned beneath her.

A sharp stab of fear buried itself in her chest. She silently thanked Celestia that she had not dropped into the ocean while she was sleeping. Even the thought of waking up underwater was enough to shoot icy adrenaline through her entire body.

She sucked in a sharp breath.

Salty sea air.

She had never seen the ocean before, she realized. Not like this. At the beach, perhaps. In pictures.

Not like this at all.

And she felt that she was almost there.

She felt it with such certainty that it came to her in complete words, no longer that hazy bleariness of the first fluttering urge to fly:

You're almost there.

She looked around her.

The flock was different.

No longer weary. No longer afraid. At least not dominantly.

They were buzzing.

Humming.

Electrically alive with anticipation.

Night Glider looked to the pegasus beside her. "Hey," she said, nudging them in the ribs. "We're almost there, aren't we?"

The pegasus beside her smiled—

actually smiled!

—and said, "yes."