The girl is so unsure, almost scared of what I might do. Though I offer no harm or negativity, she hesitates to embrace it fully - but nor does she turn it away. I admire the strength she demonstrates to overcome her internal fear - such strength I wish I possessed in my times of weakness, where I either picked a fight to avoid the 'confrontation' of getting to know someone, or reveal too much about myself.. But here she was, offering herself to me. I would think her foolish had she been older, naïve perhaps, but she was still a filly - her experiences, however rich, were limited by the sheer fact that she was yet to spend a significant amount of time simply being alive. I was glad that it was me, and not someone more sinister, to accept her nervous, hesitant trust. I would do everything in my power to keep that trust safe.

I watched carefully as she stretched her skinny little wings out, observing them closely, sniffing the dander that drifted from their feathery folds. There was very little muscle tone, it was obvious she rarely stretched them out, let alone knew how to approach flying with them. I nodded as I ran my whiskered muzzle down the length of one and up the length of the other, my gaze critical. "Hmmm," I murmur in response to her question, my brow furrowing as I consider how to reply.

"You have the potential to soar as high and fast as you want," I begin, a shadow of a smile curving my dark lips as I imagined her grey and gold self cutting through the clouds of the heavens above. "It won't be easy.. " I allow my words to trail off, before quirking a single brow upwards as I considered Aithniel. "I think you'll be up for the challenge, though." My smile grows ever so slightly, as I turn my body away from her again, stretching my own wings out as wide as they can go, before bowing them out horizontal, then up again, slowly, with deliberate control. It was an activity that generated little wind movement, one that was mostly silent too - few could appreciate the intricacy of the simple motion, but I was my father's daughter, and had learned as many of his tricks as was physically possible before his untimely death.

"The first thing I want you to do is stretch your wings, as often as possible. Feel your muscles expand and contract," I demonstrate, making space between us so that I can sweep my wings up and down without knocking her slight little frame over. "Flying isn't just about feeling the wind and letting it lift you up - though that sure is fun." As I mention the wind, I encourage a gentle breeze to stir up around us, relishing in its caress upon my feathered body. "Though I could rustle up a wind strong enough to put you in the air, you first need to build up your muscles. It'll hurt, especially in the beginning - you'll feel so tired that you'll want to die, but that's where you need to keep on pushing."

"Having wings doesn't automatically give you the right to fly." I say, a little bit more serious then my previous words. But I soften my words with a smile as I reach out to bump my nose against her again. "You've got to be ready to earn it."

@[Aithniel]