Amateur Angel Angie and The Stray Moon!

She stumbled across her feet in a rather ungraceful manner even for an angel in training. Though it was much lighter than her last vessel, it was difficult to operate on such small feet still. Especially with the moon losing its center gravity, unironically.

Her steps moved in a sloppy tapdance across the rapidly shifting ground, and all the while she muttered frantically, "Oh god oh dear oh lord OH GOD!!"

She tried to spread her wings by focusing on the tingling in her upper back, but each time was a different failure. Goose wings. Chicken wings. Bug wings.

"By the light—come on! Please!" She needed to sprout her wings, and fast! But with the anxiousness towards flying, and the general fear of being hurled through space on a giant rock wasn't exactly helping that.

That, and an intrusive thought had started making itself at home. She hoped it was just her, but knew in general that it probably wasn't with her luck. It was got warmer. And brighter. In space. And that was bad.