Honeyed Pasture Eight seconds left in overdrive

Mason listened with attentiveness when she spoke. Her beautiful voice outlined the problems and also the intrigues of wolf-flight. Mason's mouth dropped open a fraction when she mentioned leaves were not team players - "OH Ye-" he began to butt in, but he stopped (with great difficulty) remembering his dad's inference on manners. He had noticed leaves flurrying about willy-nilly with no care for each other, so he knew exactly what she meant when she said they tended not to work as a team. He certainly didn't want to plummet to his death (even with a lady as nice as Osprey) simply because they had used the wrong flight-tool.

Osprey went on to pose a suggestion which Mason immediately gripped as if it had been his own idea. She was apparently causing him to revert back to his 5-month old self. This must be what it felt like to have a mother. "That's awesome, I think we need to make sure it's a big tree though, 'cause we're quite big compared with leaves... so if we pick a weakling tree it might not be able to make us light enough." And so Mason immediately began casting his fiery eyes around for a likely looking large tree. With gusto he spotted one in the distance, garbled some nonsense to her - "ThiswayIknow! It'llbesoooo-cool" and then ran like the wind towards the old, gently-waving vegetation.