Even from afar, my anticipation can sense the melting embrace of his smile rising to meet me. Reaching out with tangible warmth; offering the assumption of encouragement. Unrestrained energy flows abundantly with every stroke and though my feet strike firmly, their light touch is mercifully soft upon the ground. Behind me, my dock rises to banner a tri fold of silk from the downcast position it usually hung. The lingering echo of self-doubt is squelched by his presence – Noah had a way of stirring my fledgling courage awake. Though, the sharp fang of anxiety couldn’t be entirely forgotten. As I close the distance, these lips answer his call with a smile, “hi!”

Sliding in – following his instruction via body language – my eyes shift naturally to Noah’s dark, shapely companion. An informal (instant) opinion begins to form. She (like my eagle) is blessed with height; her body is painted like the shiny, burning rock of my volcanic host…the one who’d held me in captivity. No…my subconscious murmurs, openly denying the negative resemblance…and swapping for a positive one. She that tiny voice whispers, captures the essence of midnight and the harvest moon. Irises dance upward, tracing the spiral dagger sprouting from the center of her face. The presence of horns has never been an oddity for me; however, the absence of feathered bloodlines…

His voice pulls upon my focus and derails me – optics spare a glance Noah's way, ears sway forward to absorb that surrendered name. Akumi. Mini me toys with it, testing the sound upon her silent lips before offering it back. When Akumi speaks, I only understand the first utterance – but her body language is enough to decipher the intention, "Akumi," though her name seems to come easily, my soft voice betrays itself by wavering and treading lightly with my self-confidence, "hello." The top of my head dips, taking cue from her to mimic...replicate.

A northern gale races over the plain, ruffling the grass near these legs and dragging long fingers down the lax arch of my arms. Mane and tail are both thrown into a sideways sweep. I tilt my head, aiming (and failing) to redirect those loose strands aside. A flash of tawny gold – irises tilt up, looking behind Akumi to find the source of color. Sitting amid the layers of red…a feather? Temples narrow while a new layer of bemusement is added to the growing heap.

There was no mystery as to the owner of said pinion...but why would anyone wear feather? What practical use did it have? Uselessly…my subconscious frowns and throws out (what she deems is) a logical solution. It has to be a formality. Trading feathers could be a way to show someone's willingness for a future friendship.

Go ahead, mini me whispers, reading my thoughts, be polite. Spurred by the desire to somehow stand upon the best foot possible, I pull my left wing forward and turn to rid the branch of two chocolate quills (both are semiplumes.)

OC: -head-desk- I'm so so so sorry for the wait ;-;
@Noah