Fernwick Glide

Hold anywhere on the screen and the little bird folds his wings: he drops, gathers speed, cuts straight through a crosswind. Let go and the wings spread, and that speed turns back into height. One hold, no other buttons. An autumn storm carried him across the valley, and the way home to the hedge runs through bramble, chalk canyons, an old orchard and a cold ridge. Eighteen legs sit on a branching route instead of a straight line, so finishing one opens two or three more and no branch ever closes behind you. Each leg carries three ribbons that pull against each other: reach the far side, stay under the drag budget, and take every seed cluster on the way. Rising leaves give away a thermal. Blown dust warns of a gust about to shove you sideways. Pollen from a crossing grows six plumage traits over three tiers each, buys single use charms, and unlocks ten wing patterns. The logbook keeps a wind rose for every leg, so you can see which gust direction is eating your attempts.