"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the fox told her. "They don't work the way you think they do."
"But then what am I to do?" the princess asked, half-despairing. Only half, though, for she had already walked across water and swum through fire, and she would not give up now. "There is no bridge, no rope, no stairway by which I might make my way across, and I cannot turn back."
"I didn't say you had any choice, just said I wouldn't do it if I were in your shoes." The fox blinked up at her guilelessly.
"I am not wearing any shoes," she pointed out, and ignored the fox's irritated cough. The wind ruffled and smoothed the feathers on the wings until it seemed the wings themselves moved. "Will these get me across the gorge?"
"Yes, but--" The fox fell silent when she lifted the wings off of the plinth.
"As you said, I have no other choice."