we're death defying, coming in like lightning
The sound of a soft voice draws another wretched groan from him, though this is not a sound of pain. No, this is a sound of pure embarrassment. Apparently his wishes had not been answered, and his spectacular failure had in fact been witnessed.
For a moment, he imagines that if he were to remain very still, the stranger might give up and go away. Might forget they had ever witnessed a dragon fall so clumsily from the sky. Alas, Roue’s optimism had largely vanished long ago, and it didn’t take him longer than that moment to come to the conclusion this notion was also little more than a fantasy.
Gingerly, Roue begins to collect himself, assessing his body for injury as he does so. He has little doubt there would be some lingering soreness, but at least nothing feels broken. Finally, he lifts his head, swiveling his long neck until his gaze catches on the small… mare? He winces at the sight of her, and before he can think better of it, he blurts, “I wasn’t chasing you, was I?”
Belatedly, he realizes how bad that must sound. He is certainly not in the habit of chasing horses around for lunch, and the thought that he might have, even by accident, makes him vaguely nauseous.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. Exhaling a smokey breath, he draws his feet beneath him, barely suppressing a wince as he does so. Normally he would never even consider transitioning in front of someone else, but he also really didn’t want to contemplate the notion he might have tried to eat a horse, no matter how deer-like she may be.
So he transitions.
It must be an awkward thing to watch. He has never gotten to a point of graceful transformation, so however uncomfortable it might feel for him, it must be doubly so to see. Eventually, however, he manages to stand on four hooved feet as he shakes out leathery wings and settles them at his sides. His equine coat looks much the same as his draconic, shimmering gold sprinkled over black with a smattering of graying circles across his shoulders and hips.
Returning his attention to the antlered woman nearby, he offers her a faintly chagrined grin. As though that would be apology enough for the spectacle she had just witnessed.
roué
@dear