The forest goes quiet before a Draco launches. It pivots on the bark, fans a pair of hidden membranes, and drops into a glide that looks effortless. Those “wings” aren’t wings at all. They’re ribs pushed outward like umbrella spokes, stretching a thin skin called a patagium. The tail acts as a trim tab, toes splay for stability, and the lizard rides a curve of air to the next tree. Gliding solves a forest problem: distance. When life is vertical and sunbeams fall in shafts, the fastest way acros