Alas, fuel was beginning to run low - his uncle never brimmed the tank, not when he didn't have to - and he had to start making his way back to the farm, though he made sure to slough the craft from side to side as he descended, angling her over the dirt strip.

It was, to his surprise, the smoothest landing he'd ever managed - the Kaydet setting down with grace that defied her age and obsolescence, the tail slowly dropping as she came to a stop, the engine sputtering to a halt shortly afterwards. He hopped down from his perch with practised ease, moving to offer her help if she needed it. Not that he would ever say that, outwardly - but sometimes the first time took people a funny way, the legs not quite remembering they were back on the ground.