Sugar's efforts to fly had not been in earnest, really, not since she had hatched into Ronin's hands. But her scrabbling and flapping about on the guildhall floor - and on his shoulder (his shoulder littered with punctures from tiny, eager claws) and on his lap and on the back of chairs - led him to believe that it might be time that he tried a flying lesson with her properly. If his friendly neighbourhood alchemist hadn't been so torn and stitched up, he'd have invited Remi along in his hawk form to show Sugar the ropes. Alas, he would be going it alone today.
The afternoon was crisp and the snowfall had stopped at midday, leaving a blanket of soft, undisturbed white across the fields for them to practice. And if the dragonling fell then it would be a soft landing, at least. Ronin's footsteps were sure as he marched through the snow, his boots leaving deep prints, his coat billowing with the cold breeze. The dragonling in question was perched upon his shoulder, her slip of a silver tail draped around his shoulders for balance, her white wings folded neatly over her shoulders.
On his right hand he wore a leather gauntlet not dissimilar to those worn by falconers. His God Hand or bracers would do a similar job, but he wanted to make sure he was a little more protected while Sugar was still getting the hang of it.
"Okay," he said, flashing a sideways smile to the dragon. "Down you climb. Let's try this out."
Trilling and nosing the warm space behind his ear with a serpentine snout, Sugar clawed and clambered her way down his arm to perch upon the glove. Ronin raised his hand high, and the little creature began to beat her wings steadily, as if to get used to the motion.
The afternoon was crisp and the snowfall had stopped at midday, leaving a blanket of soft, undisturbed white across the fields for them to practice. And if the dragonling fell then it would be a soft landing, at least. Ronin's footsteps were sure as he marched through the snow, his boots leaving deep prints, his coat billowing with the cold breeze. The dragonling in question was perched upon his shoulder, her slip of a silver tail draped around his shoulders for balance, her white wings folded neatly over her shoulders.
On his right hand he wore a leather gauntlet not dissimilar to those worn by falconers. His God Hand or bracers would do a similar job, but he wanted to make sure he was a little more protected while Sugar was still getting the hang of it.
"Okay," he said, flashing a sideways smile to the dragon. "Down you climb. Let's try this out."
Trilling and nosing the warm space behind his ear with a serpentine snout, Sugar clawed and clambered her way down his arm to perch upon the glove. Ronin raised his hand high, and the little creature began to beat her wings steadily, as if to get used to the motion.
