"We don't have to go in it." Papillion practically sang the words as her eyes rolled so far back in her head that they seemed at serious risk of getting lost back there. She was happy to follow despite the impish lack of respect she apparently meant to pay him, jingling after him. "Great thing about these old buildings is all the handholds they build into them!" She quite literally jogged on ahead of him in a clatter of gold and gems, taking several long, loping strides before spotting what it was she had been looking for. She drew to a halt, raising an arm to shield her face from yet another gust of chilly breeze as well as the glare of a slowly sinking sun.
Raising and arm she waved him over to her and pointed at a stone house with wooden beams built into the walls as support. "Best climb I ever had were these ruins, dead in the center of a rain forest - thought I'd drown taking a deep breath some days, it was that humid!" She stepped up, running her hands along the surface of the stones. Here the winds had begun to wear away at the facing some, enough for toe purchase. With her immense wingspan she reached up to the top of a door frame, snagging the edge of it with her fingers, the muscles and tendons bunching and showing beneath bronzed skin of her forearm... but she did not swing her way up, only turning to look at him in a way that suggested that this had been a performance entirely for his benefit. A lesson.
"As the mortar wears from between the stones it leaves handholds, but best of all it's just the style of the building. That ruin in the rain forest, they had all this stonework, just beautiful reliefs and sculptures - everything was a work of art. These aren't half as pretty but they'll do." The woman stepped back, dusting her hands off as she fixed the red leather and heavy cloth vest she wore, tightening the laces and tying two knots before continuing on at a slower, more conversational pace, hitching up her belt with shimmy and sparkle. Glittery. She stretched her fingers as they walked. "I got a pair of gloves you can borrow even - protect them delicate hands of yours - unless you still wanna go in." A wolfish grin curled across her lips as she turned to him. One could swear by the look of devilment that there were only a few tenuous threads of self control that restrained her from outright calling him a chicken.
Raising and arm she waved him over to her and pointed at a stone house with wooden beams built into the walls as support. "Best climb I ever had were these ruins, dead in the center of a rain forest - thought I'd drown taking a deep breath some days, it was that humid!" She stepped up, running her hands along the surface of the stones. Here the winds had begun to wear away at the facing some, enough for toe purchase. With her immense wingspan she reached up to the top of a door frame, snagging the edge of it with her fingers, the muscles and tendons bunching and showing beneath bronzed skin of her forearm... but she did not swing her way up, only turning to look at him in a way that suggested that this had been a performance entirely for his benefit. A lesson.
"As the mortar wears from between the stones it leaves handholds, but best of all it's just the style of the building. That ruin in the rain forest, they had all this stonework, just beautiful reliefs and sculptures - everything was a work of art. These aren't half as pretty but they'll do." The woman stepped back, dusting her hands off as she fixed the red leather and heavy cloth vest she wore, tightening the laces and tying two knots before continuing on at a slower, more conversational pace, hitching up her belt with shimmy and sparkle. Glittery. She stretched her fingers as they walked. "I got a pair of gloves you can borrow even - protect them delicate hands of yours - unless you still wanna go in." A wolfish grin curled across her lips as she turned to him. One could swear by the look of devilment that there were only a few tenuous threads of self control that restrained her from outright calling him a chicken.
