She might have found his wry acknowledgment about practice paying off amusing, if not at least a little eye-roll-worthy, had she not been so preoccupied with trying to figure out whether or not he’d meant to insult her or was just making a joke. When he denies implying her clumsiness, her ruffled feathers begin to smooth as a faintly sheepish expression crosses her pale features.
At least, until he asks her if she is clumsy.
Bristling again, she scowls at him. “NO!” she shoots quickly back, though it is tinged perhaps by a bit of uncertainty. She had definitely never tried to practice like he clearly had. In fact, she’d never really thought too much about her flying skills until this very moment.
Truth be told, she had absolutely no idea if she was clumsy or not.
Huffing, she eyes him suspiciously as he glances between her and the cliffs looming nearby. She couldn’t very well tell him she didn’t want to fly. After all, that would mean admitting her own ignorance, and she definitely didn’t want to do that. Scowl deepening (adorably, though she had never seen her own scowling face to know it was more amusing than intimidating), she snaps her wings wide. Throwing him one final glare for good measure, she shoves forward into an easy canter, wings beating until she can get enough lift to pull herself into the air.
Though her movements are economical and unpracticed, her naturally small stature gives her speed and agility in the air that (while perhaps not the most graceful) are at least not embarrassing.
Looping once, she brings herself up to the stony cliff, wings arched and stiff as she slides to a landing, dust and stone spraying around her. She hisses at the burn against her fetlocks, but by the time she turns to face the direction she’d come from, her features are once more set into mulish lines. She would entirely ignore the scraped, stinging, slightly bleeding skin of her heels if it meant proving him wrong.
- noel