Bellona
Beauty may be skin deep
But cruelty runs clear to the bone.

The hybrid is not in the best of moods as her body plummets towards the island. Her scream had been dealt with the intention of throwing her opponents off course, but it has managed to deter the bird from victory as well. In consideration of the race, the descending maiden decides that turtles and levitating lands are not to be trusted. Especially now, when she is about to slam into one of them. Oh Gods.

Fanning out a pair of exuberant wings, Bellona thrusts her hind legs forwards to allow them to touch down first. Her front-most supports churn the air as gravity forces her downwards. The feathered limbs at her sides fill with the atmosphere, slowing her chaotic descent. A second falling form catches her eye just as her hooves collide into the ground, rocking her body forward with a painful jolt. The ground is swift beneath her striped pillars when she dashes forwards to minimize the impact. The Aztec's nares quake with both rage and delight when they recognize the scent of the man that has joined her. His tone is tainted by the former when his words reach her ears.

"My pardons, majesty." Orange eyes flash with outrage at his accusation, and she responds to him with a snarky tone that drips in sarcasm. At the memory of the silver stag's first landing, she seizes the opportunity to remind him that his failure was not entirely her fault. "I could not have just sat idly by, oh-great-master-of-flight."

Yet even through her rage at being blamed for his loss, the bitter woman cannot help but to allow a smile to adorn her lips. "It would appear that I have learned a thing or two from you, telpochtli."

The pain slowly leaks out of her tense limbs as the bird approaches the brute. Her mind protests against her seemingly inviting actions, begging for her to stop and reconsider the situation. This is not your friend! What has he done for you? Nothing! All that he has done is kicked your Legatus' rump -- a pleasure that should have been yours to revel in!

The chieftess will not listen to reason, however, and she tosses her head. To the pegasus it may appear to be a playful gesture, but to the maiden it is a means of dispelling her thoughts. For as long as she has been alone, the wanderer has always yearned for someone to share her pain. Companionship has never been a familiar concept for the ferocious vixen, but she can feel her own need for such a thing deep within her bones. Where does one begin with this? The woman lashes her tail in annoyance. She feels like a fool for not knowing how to proceed, but she is determined not to inform this candidate of her predicament. So how does one put this subtly?

The cold-hearted warrior shimmies her body in an awkward sidestep lacking in all of her grace. When a sapphire hip bumps into a silver one, her eyes widen in surprise. She did it. They were friends now.

"Talk talk talk."

{Telpochtli -- "young warrior."

Okay, I don't even. I don't even know. Bellona is supposed to mean and snarky, but she's like "Nyte, c'mon man, I want a friend." And I'm like, "You don't know how to make friends. Friends is not in your vocabulary". AND THEN THIS.}

@[Gull]