Mazikeen would risk the swim, especially if she were angry enough that the fear wasn’t forefront in her mind. She’d never been particularly good at letting something she was afraid of keep her from doing anything - even if that fear was completely logical and would keep her safe. Still, she appreciates the acceptance of her disguise plan and tries not to have ungrateful thoughts about him tolerating her presence here long enough for her wings to decide they want to work.
His request for a sign of her visits does absolutely nothing to calm her heart or ease any of the confusion in her mind. How can it possibly frustrate her, hurt her, and make her want to smile all at the same time?
Mazikeen doesn't bother to guard her expression against letting these emotions flicker through her eyes - she's not sure she could if she wanted to since her mind is still reeling from the vision he shared. But she focuses on that last impulse, agreeing to Gale's words with a small nod and the ghost of a smile. An idea comes to her without much effort, one that she thinks will mean something to them both. “I could leave a white osprey feather? It’s always been my favourite form to fly in.” She can’t remember if she’s told him that little detail - if he knew why seeing him turn into one had packed such a punch (or why meeting Erne had been such a delight, or why she had so quickly recognized the black wings he wore for a time). It had been true before she ever met him, though even Mazikeen’s stubborn denial cannot refuse the fact that she’s since learned a few more reasons to favour that raptor above others.
She still finds it annoying how it took no effort at all to grow fond of him.
Her purpose for this visit settled, Mazikeen is at a loss for how to say goodbye and shifts a little where she stands. There’s that horrifyingly strong desire to reach out (this could be the last semi-pleasant exchange they ever have, after all, though she hopes not). But she’s far too uncertain to give in to such fancies. The ground still feels like it could slip out from under her at any minute if she makes the wrong move again. Even though they’ve reached something of an understanding, there’s too much doubt lingering in her as she looks at him.
No, to bridge the gap between them on her own would surely be as selfish as he accused her of being. It is better instead to try to get him to be the one to turn and leave this area first so she won’t have the chance to act on these impulses and risk making him uncomfortable again. To let him set the boundaries for how they part (since she didn't exactly accept much negotiation on anything else...).
“I… um, will need to be alone for my wings to cooperate long enough to at least take-off.” She looks away then, back down the beach where she had come - thinking about how keeping to the waves had erased her trail and definitely not thinking about her next quiet words or Gale in her periphery. “You’re too distracting.” There is a slight tug of a smile on her mouth again because even though she’s not thinking about it, she does manage to register some of the irony of this request.
@[Gale]