Cats land on their feet || Open
Kite flying was a very curious past time which Chess had yet to encounter. He was high up in the sky, and knew to look out for birds (they were always very surprised to see him, but he would look back at them absently, as he did). But other than that, not much else met him up here. That is, until a bright red and purple thing hit him on the head. His large eyes crossed, his body flickering in and out of its wispy state, forming and reforming as he tried to collect himself.
He found himself falling, not something he'd experience in a very long time - since he was a Cheshire kitten really, scrambling for footing under his humble tree. Goodness, how time flew, he thought. And goodness, how he wasn't flying at that moment.
Chess felt very much solid as he plummetted to the ground, trying to get a grasp of all of himself. He had a feeling he might have lost his tail somewhere, but he was having difficulty twisting his head round to look.