Mazikeen’s ears twitch backwards in annoyance when Gale responds to her mention of being a shapeshifter by saying he hopes not. What the hell did that mean? She automatically assumes it’s an insult, that he didn’t want to be like her, even though the worry that leeches into his voice doesn’t suggest that at all. She’s in the process of deciding which insult would be best to fling back at him when he continues, sort of. A family thing, then.
It distresses Maze that this news isn’t as exciting for him as it was for her, that it’s overshadowed by some other history.
But those thoughts are forgotten in an instant when Gale steps towards her after she displays her own set of wings. Mazikeen can feel herself go on edge, as though every muscle in her body has just tensed up at the same time. Her wings squeeze against her sides and her entire focus is intent upon him. She despises the uncertainty that coils around her rapidly beating heart at this proximity (and a fear that she cannot name). She hears the compliment but it does not fully register with her because she’s thinking about another time a boy inched closer with smooth words. Thinking about how uncomfortable she had felt knowing it was all a falsehood played to get under her skin (and how it worked). Thinking about how she had torn his face apart when he had touched her.
Would it feel the same with Gale?
Those black feathered wings squeeze even tighter at the next half-step, and when he leans in closer and speaks it feels as though every single hair on Mazikeen’s body is standing on edge in anticipation. If it came down to fight or flight, she always knew her answer.
In the end, the pale mare does not have time to wonder if she’s relieved or disappointed when the gap between them doesn’t fully disappear. His playful tease about her fragrant and blood-stained state defuses everything churning within her and she laughs, a note that’s bright and a touch too loud - like when thunder and lightning occur at the same time.
She shakes her head then, orange eyes dancing, and without thinking about it extends one of her black wings to shove against him. “Who would’ve thought it. Gale, Alliance warrior, vision stealer, and defender of Islandres, is afraid to get a little dirty.” She inhales dramatically and fakes a cough. “You’re not wrong though. Come on, you big baby. Keep me company? Tell me why shapeshifting is so terrible in your family…” She says it just because she’s curious, because it bothers her more than she’ll admit that she thought she had noticed worry in his voice over something she loved so much. But once the words are out she realizes that he might not want to talk about it at all and she won't press him. So she continues after the smallest of pauses as she turns towards the ocean and a much-needed bath, shrugging with one of her wings. “Or you know, say that’s none of my business and tell me something else like - how you came to be living here on this tropical paradise.”
Mazikeen moves across the soft sand to the ocean and steps into the black water without hesitation - hoping that even if Gale does not join her in the water, he will stick around nearby until she is done. Salt-water splashing into her wounds causes her to gasp but she clamps her mouth shut to cut out the noise - forces herself to believe the pain is welcome, refreshing. It effectively clears her head, at any rate. As soon as all four hooves are in the water she shifts into a pale spider monkey (even though wet fur is gross). Partially because she can scrub at herself easily with the deft fingers and partially because there’s something she’s always found funny about monkeys with their expressive faces and hands. She’s hoping to at least inspire a smile in her new friend as she sits in the shallow water, her small form rocking ever so gently with each movement of the tide.
@[Gale]