04-11-2017, 11:04 PM
The blue boy is the first to catch her attention, or rather his voice is, carrying down to the pegasus from the cliff. She doesn't see him at first, looking at the sheer rock face from where he voice seems to generate with a frown, but when he calls down again, it is enough to lift her face to the top and she smiles at finding him there, even so high. His color doesn't bother her - she may be muted, but one of the relatives here that Brennen says she can just call 'Aunt Cassady' is nearly as purple as this boy is blue. But the fact stands that Bristol didn't come down from up there, and so she has no idea how one might make the journey on foot. "I don't know!" she calls back, "How did you get up?"
Unhelpful, to say the least, but she eyes the height with speculation. "I might be able to fly up!" she yells, excited, even thought she knows she hasn't tackled anything like this before. Brennen has taken her soaring on the lifting thermals, flights where she has plenty of time to take off and land again, but a near-vertical launch is a different story. Bristol is so focused on how to accomplish her task that she doesn't hear to see the approach of the other two colts until the white-and-dark one speaks, startling the filly from her crouched position and she springs into the air, lifting off a few feet from the ground by her quick wings, before finding purchase again a little ways away, laughing aloud at herself even while she turns curious amber-brown eyes on the boys.
Perhaps it is good that he interrupted her before she could try, if that was as high as she could get right away.
She also takes note of the path, filing it away in her brain, but she wants to master the flying instead. Walking up the cliff seems so wasteful when a few wingbeats could get her there sooner, if only she could figure out the flying thing better. Settling back into place and hoping Longclaw will come down, she folds her wings against her side, butterfly colors fading into deep brown-black feathers one scale at a time with a gentle ripple effect. "I'm Bristol," she offers with another little smile and then looks expectantly at the other winged boy who is the only one yet to be named.
Unhelpful, to say the least, but she eyes the height with speculation. "I might be able to fly up!" she yells, excited, even thought she knows she hasn't tackled anything like this before. Brennen has taken her soaring on the lifting thermals, flights where she has plenty of time to take off and land again, but a near-vertical launch is a different story. Bristol is so focused on how to accomplish her task that she doesn't hear to see the approach of the other two colts until the white-and-dark one speaks, startling the filly from her crouched position and she springs into the air, lifting off a few feet from the ground by her quick wings, before finding purchase again a little ways away, laughing aloud at herself even while she turns curious amber-brown eyes on the boys.
Perhaps it is good that he interrupted her before she could try, if that was as high as she could get right away.
She also takes note of the path, filing it away in her brain, but she wants to master the flying instead. Walking up the cliff seems so wasteful when a few wingbeats could get her there sooner, if only she could figure out the flying thing better. Settling back into place and hoping Longclaw will come down, she folds her wings against her side, butterfly colors fading into deep brown-black feathers one scale at a time with a gentle ripple effect. "I'm Bristol," she offers with another little smile and then looks expectantly at the other winged boy who is the only one yet to be named.