Maleficent spreads her wings wide and lets the snap of the air currents hitting her sting and stretch, holding muscles taut against it as she is all but thrown upwards. The clouds tickle and the winds ruffle and pull at her hair and feathers, drying her lips, drawn into a broad smile she cannot quash as she drifts, looking down upon the Moors from her proper place.

They are extensive, but everything and everyone that dwells within have been made tiny from altitude and distance . . . and all of them sheltered under Maleficent's wide wings.