It takes him just a split second to realise his negligence. The sand. Immediately he stops, turns and heads back to her, bleating sadly as he seeks to press his muzzle reassuringly to her shoulder. How could he have forgotten? His sister's....impulses rule most of his daily activities, yet he hadn't given her a thought to attempting to lead her towards the sandy, messy dunes. "Rak sorry," he murmurs to her, his ears flopping sadly to either side of his head.

This poses a bit of a problem, however. Arakh's few flights have all been from a higher vantage point, learning to slowly glide downwards to the ground and master the complicated wing movements that are necessary for powered flight, before he progressed to jumping from the high point and actually propelling himself through the air with his wings. He's never took off from the flat ground before, and he certainly doesn't know if this is the best time to try it out. He's been practicing intently, but will it be enough?

It has to be. The colt cannot expect his sister to head into the dunes, so he reluctantly nods his head and tries not to look as nervous as he feels. "Of course. Rak show Esi here."

There's no time like the present. He moves out of the waves to the shoreline, praying that the wet sand is softer than it looks. "Esi watch Rak. See how Rak holds body and spreads wings, making feathers wide for big surface area." The calf demonstrates, spreading his wings and ruffling the feathers until they're splayed outwards, displaying the firm muscles of his wing-arms. "Esi need to fly often to build up strength in wings. Rak been flying for many weeks, make shoulders strong. Esi fly every day if possible, until Esi can fly up into the clouds with Rak." He gives her a wobbly smile. He's blagging it, and hopes it isn't obvious - building up wing-strength is hard work, and even after several weeks, he doesn't feel overly confident. This is a baptism of fire for him.

"Start to run, build up speed. Then bend back legs, jump up. Flap wings, try and stay in air for few seconds, then land safely. Watch Rak." He drags in a deep breath of sea air, praying his wings won't fail him now. Lowering his head and body, he launches forwards into a canter and then a collected gallop, before allowing his strides to lengthen. He pounds across the sand, feeling like he's going at a hundred miles an hour, grains of dirt spattering up against his undersides (he hopes Esinakh won't be too put off by that)....then he bunches his powerful hindquarters and launches himself into the sky. His wings automatically begin to beat and relief surges through him as he stays airborne, rather than collapsing into a heap as he'd feared. He soars eagerly through the sky, heart beating like a drum with fear and excitement and delight, before ceasing his beats and allowing himself to land heavily into the wet sand. It's not the most elegant of landings, but the colt is merely glad he managed to not make a fool of himself.

He turns, looking back along the beach to Esinakh. "Esi try now. Fly towards Rak," he shouts along the beach to her. He knows she can do it - she's strong, she's of his blood, she can do this.