Jigano wasn't sure of this new shape he'd gained during Long Night.
He'd been a fox all his life, born a kitsune and able to shift between his forms at will, even though he spent most of his time pretending to be human. He didn't have to learn how to fox. He just... was, in his heart and soul as well as his body, in that not-quite-human, not-quite-animal way of the Fae.
But now he could, apparently, turn into a raven. A raven, of all things, with clever toes and a voice that could mimic the most interesting sounds... and wings.
He was grace itself with all four feet on the ground, but flying had never been his strong suit - and that had not changed with the addition of wings to his repertoire. Oh, he managed, generally speaking, but he lacked the effortless poise of Remi's hawk form and it galled him to admit it. So now, with the spring sunlight falling around him and a brisk breeze ruffling his feathers - he practiced.
And practiced.
And practiced.
Flying wasn't, he decided, the hard part. Taking off and landing, though, those were tricky. Especially with 'playful' gusts of wind knocking him around when he was close to the ground. He had been aiming for the crest of a familiar house, in fact, when one such wind caught him and skirled him through the air so he had to flap madly to right himself before stumbling to an awkward landing in the backyard, croaking in frustration before he looked up to realize he wasn't alone and, worse, he had been seen being less than his poised best.
He'd been a fox all his life, born a kitsune and able to shift between his forms at will, even though he spent most of his time pretending to be human. He didn't have to learn how to fox. He just... was, in his heart and soul as well as his body, in that not-quite-human, not-quite-animal way of the Fae.
But now he could, apparently, turn into a raven. A raven, of all things, with clever toes and a voice that could mimic the most interesting sounds... and wings.
He was grace itself with all four feet on the ground, but flying had never been his strong suit - and that had not changed with the addition of wings to his repertoire. Oh, he managed, generally speaking, but he lacked the effortless poise of Remi's hawk form and it galled him to admit it. So now, with the spring sunlight falling around him and a brisk breeze ruffling his feathers - he practiced.
And practiced.
And practiced.
Flying wasn't, he decided, the hard part. Taking off and landing, though, those were tricky. Especially with 'playful' gusts of wind knocking him around when he was close to the ground. He had been aiming for the crest of a familiar house, in fact, when one such wind caught him and skirled him through the air so he had to flap madly to right himself before stumbling to an awkward landing in the backyard, croaking in frustration before he looked up to realize he wasn't alone and, worse, he had been seen being less than his poised best.
