Isuma wasn't happy about having her wings manipulated, tugging back on the limb as Rory tried to unfold it at first, but she didn't fight too hard. If he showed an intention to continue she would huff in resignation and go limp against his arm, a pouting dead weight that had Jigano biting back a laugh at her dramatics. "I check on how the feathers are fledging in every day," he murmured to his friend, "but once the primaries started pushing through she's been a bit particular about letting me play with them." He had been reading quite a bit about birds and falconry since that had started!
"Mmm. My previous experience is that it requires clinging to a saddle blanket or an antler with all four paws," Jigano admitted with a rueful grin, agreeing with the difficulty of riding. "I'm nimble enough on my own feet - however many of them I have at the time - but it's another matter entirely to put my trust in something else's feet to get me where I want to go!" And stranger than he could put into words to be able to say something like that out loud, to someone who knew what he was, and to feel only the slightest tremor of trepidation at it. He wanted to lean into Rory's shoulder, let the other man know somehow how much it meant to him that he could speak so openly with someone about a secret he had kept for a lifetime, but he didn't quite dare, not yet, while the hunter was still weak with hunger and the haze of a depression that couldn't be shaken off so quickly.
But then he didn't have to dare, because Rory seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and as he shifted closer Jigano hesitated only for a moment. He would have been happy just leaning against Rory's side, even that much would have been so much more than he had allowed himself in years... but the hunter was cold, and hungry, and the bard gave a shy, sideways glance before he slipped his arm around his friend's shoulders and shifted to finish closing the distance between them, giving Rory as much of his warmth as he could. "You don't make her sound very fun to ride," he teased lightly, ignoring how Isuma made a self-satisfied little chirrup at the way his heart was racing. "Withers?" he questioned curiously, then frowned at the rumble of his friend's stomach. "I'd brought the chamomile for the horses but... I can make tea for us, if you'd like?" he offered gently. "To tide you over until the soup is ready?" As much as he didn't want to let Rory go now that he had his lean strength tucked so comfortably against his side, he also didn't want his friend passing out from hunger while they waited on the jerky and vegetables to soften.
"Mmm. My previous experience is that it requires clinging to a saddle blanket or an antler with all four paws," Jigano admitted with a rueful grin, agreeing with the difficulty of riding. "I'm nimble enough on my own feet - however many of them I have at the time - but it's another matter entirely to put my trust in something else's feet to get me where I want to go!" And stranger than he could put into words to be able to say something like that out loud, to someone who knew what he was, and to feel only the slightest tremor of trepidation at it. He wanted to lean into Rory's shoulder, let the other man know somehow how much it meant to him that he could speak so openly with someone about a secret he had kept for a lifetime, but he didn't quite dare, not yet, while the hunter was still weak with hunger and the haze of a depression that couldn't be shaken off so quickly.
But then he didn't have to dare, because Rory seemed to have come to the same conclusion, and as he shifted closer Jigano hesitated only for a moment. He would have been happy just leaning against Rory's side, even that much would have been so much more than he had allowed himself in years... but the hunter was cold, and hungry, and the bard gave a shy, sideways glance before he slipped his arm around his friend's shoulders and shifted to finish closing the distance between them, giving Rory as much of his warmth as he could. "You don't make her sound very fun to ride," he teased lightly, ignoring how Isuma made a self-satisfied little chirrup at the way his heart was racing. "Withers?" he questioned curiously, then frowned at the rumble of his friend's stomach. "I'd brought the chamomile for the horses but... I can make tea for us, if you'd like?" he offered gently. "To tide you over until the soup is ready?" As much as he didn't want to let Rory go now that he had his lean strength tucked so comfortably against his side, he also didn't want his friend passing out from hunger while they waited on the jerky and vegetables to soften.
