Fire Emblem: Por--Naesala/Leanne
An... odd little drabble for Mini. Apologies if they seem a bit OOC, this thing kind of ran away from me.
Summer molt was a miserable time, all things considered. Old feathers fell out at the most inconvenient moments, new ones were always itching, and the whole country became that much more irritable. The constant changes in form didn’t help any, either. Even when he wasn’t in bird form, he could feel the prick of pinfeathers just beneath the skin.
Of course that was when Leanne chose to visit.
“You seem to have caught me at a disadvantage,” he admitted reluctantly, resisting the urge to scratch. A secondary dislodged itself from his left wing and drifted to the floor.
She giggled, “So it seems.”
He also discovered that she had every intention of using her advantage to the fullest, insisting that he allow himself to be taken care of. Taken care of, like some newly-hatched chick. Under normal circumstances, Naesala would have refused adamantly for the sake of his image, but, well…
He was a very itchy bird.
“I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself, you know,” he said, voice rough and cawing.
“Hold still,” she replied primly, clicking her beak in apparent annoyance, “You’re as fidgety as a fledgling!” but he could hear the barely-suppressed laughter in her tone.
He tilted his head back to peer at her from one dark, avian eye. She was as beautiful covered in feathers as she was with hair, pale and delicate as the wisps of cloud in the high air.
Leanne curved her long, elegant neck around to flutter her eyelids at him in a very un-birdlike manner, “Enjoying the view?”
He snorted, “You’ve spent far too much time around me. I think I’m a bad influence.”
Her only reply was a particularly musical chortle.
Summer molt was a miserable time, all things considered. Old feathers fell out at the most inconvenient moments, new ones were always itching, and the whole country became that much more irritable. The constant changes in form didn’t help any, either. Even when he wasn’t in bird form, he could feel the prick of pinfeathers just beneath the skin.
Of course that was when Leanne chose to visit.
“You seem to have caught me at a disadvantage,” he admitted reluctantly, resisting the urge to scratch. A secondary dislodged itself from his left wing and drifted to the floor.
She giggled, “So it seems.”
He also discovered that she had every intention of using her advantage to the fullest, insisting that he allow himself to be taken care of. Taken care of, like some newly-hatched chick. Under normal circumstances, Naesala would have refused adamantly for the sake of his image, but, well…
He was a very itchy bird.
“I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself, you know,” he said, voice rough and cawing.
“Hold still,” she replied primly, clicking her beak in apparent annoyance, “You’re as fidgety as a fledgling!” but he could hear the barely-suppressed laughter in her tone.
He tilted his head back to peer at her from one dark, avian eye. She was as beautiful covered in feathers as she was with hair, pale and delicate as the wisps of cloud in the high air.
Leanne curved her long, elegant neck around to flutter her eyelids at him in a very un-birdlike manner, “Enjoying the view?”
He snorted, “You’ve spent far too much time around me. I think I’m a bad influence.”
Her only reply was a particularly musical chortle.