(no subject)
Out back there is a shrieking, whooping noise--followed very swiftly by what looks to the untrained eye like a technicolor pterodactyl and rider landing on the grass. Tsu'tey takes the time while his ikran's wings flap and fold in to study his surroundings. This? This was not what he had intended to fly into; his tail whiplashes around behind his ankles as large amber-colored eyes survey the landscape. The trees here are too small, he thinks, not pleased. Absently the ikran's head gets a pet, extending to the creature's neck as he steps off, detaching the queue with a sweep of his hand.
Sky-People. Honestly.
Sky-People. Honestly.