07-28-2019, 07:22 AM
Pteron has never seen confusion on a falcon’s face before, but he recognizes it when he does. Perhaps there is just enough of the horse still in the compact predator for the stallion to see it. Whatever the reason, it elicits a quick blue grin. This is the easy part – the fun part.
“Anything you want,” he replies with a laugh.
His pale wings had been outspread, and now he lowers just one, angling it downward. His body follows immediately after, tipping over. For a moment he seems to falling, but then he angles upward once more to come up on the little falcon’s other side.
“Just move your body and see what happens.” Pteron does not know the anatomy of birds very well, but he knows enough about horses to be sure their methods of flight will vary greatly. This is not something he can teach Aodhan; it is something he needs to learn for himself. “Trial and error,” Pteron repeats the phrases his father had told him when giving the same lesson years ago. “Start with little movements first.”
The dun stallion repeats the wing dip again, returning to his former position just to the left of the falcon. The thermal that they drift within will keep them both aloft with minimal effort, and after giving Aodhan his brief instructions, Pteron follows them himself, spinning and falling and rising with the smallest of adjustments to the way he angles his wings and holds his body.
When he can be heard over the wind, he says: “Flying is the best way to get anywhere. The funnest too, I think.” Pteron’s only other options are walking and running, of course, but that does not matter much. “Where had you been?” He gestures (careful to move just his chin rather than his neck and risk an altitude adjustment) out to the world of Beqanna that spreads below. Aodhan had mentioned coming to Taiga, and Pteron is curious where he has been before this.
@[Aodhan]
“Anything you want,” he replies with a laugh.
His pale wings had been outspread, and now he lowers just one, angling it downward. His body follows immediately after, tipping over. For a moment he seems to falling, but then he angles upward once more to come up on the little falcon’s other side.
“Just move your body and see what happens.” Pteron does not know the anatomy of birds very well, but he knows enough about horses to be sure their methods of flight will vary greatly. This is not something he can teach Aodhan; it is something he needs to learn for himself. “Trial and error,” Pteron repeats the phrases his father had told him when giving the same lesson years ago. “Start with little movements first.”
The dun stallion repeats the wing dip again, returning to his former position just to the left of the falcon. The thermal that they drift within will keep them both aloft with minimal effort, and after giving Aodhan his brief instructions, Pteron follows them himself, spinning and falling and rising with the smallest of adjustments to the way he angles his wings and holds his body.
When he can be heard over the wind, he says: “Flying is the best way to get anywhere. The funnest too, I think.” Pteron’s only other options are walking and running, of course, but that does not matter much. “Where had you been?” He gestures (careful to move just his chin rather than his neck and risk an altitude adjustment) out to the world of Beqanna that spreads below. Aodhan had mentioned coming to Taiga, and Pteron is curious where he has been before this.
@[Aodhan]