[ At the sight of the creature emerging through the dense green of the world below, the Dag tightens her grip on the branch instinctively -- fear, sure, but equal parts fascination, the way she peers over the edge of her perch in place of hiding. Her mouth parts mutely when it talks. How interesting.
And also rude. ]
I'm not stuck, you big ugly brute, [ she shouts back. The bitey way her teeth cut those words, long and dry, take away any possible primness. ] You sound more afraid of heights than me.
[ And she's moving, a rustle of her perch sending down a small shower of loose leaves, seeds, twigs, and she starts the way down, hyperaware of her bounty scattered on the forest floor below. ]
i apologise for her also.
And also rude. ]
I'm not stuck, you big ugly brute, [ she shouts back. The bitey way her teeth cut those words, long and dry, take away any possible primness. ] You sound more afraid of heights than me.
[ And she's moving, a rustle of her perch sending down a small shower of loose leaves, seeds, twigs, and she starts the way down, hyperaware of her bounty scattered on the forest floor below. ]