Juniper was - once again - genuinely surprised by how delighted Dove became at the offer to touch her wings. Her parents hadn’t touched them for years, not willingly and certainly only if she’d been injured by a fall or snagging them on something. It didn’t occur to her that what she considered as part of what made her so weird could be beautiful in someone else’s eyes. It wasn’t what she’d heard.
“I haven’t flown since I got here,” she confessed. Her wings tensed and she forced herself to relax as Dove approached slowly, edging closer to her like she might flee at any second. The jury was still out on that one; half of her wanted to turn and run anyway, lock herself back in the safety of her room. But she stood her ground.
She shifted her position slightly, so she was turned sideways to Dove, stretching out her left wing so that it was closer to the other girl. Her feathers were sleek and soft, very much like those of an eagle both in look (though hers were substantially bigger) and feel. Because of the way they helped retain air, they were also really warm to the touch.
“But it’s way more fun than being on the ground. Plus I see better from further away. I mean- I can see fine now but-“ she didn’t quite know how to explain it so trailed off. She wanted to ask what Dove could do, but didn’t quite know how. Was it rude?