The raptors first hazardous reaction to being on a roof was to perch on the ledge like a gargoyle, blossom up from the sky-shelf like a piece of jasmine furling out for the moon, and watch all the world underneath her like a piece of punched out blanket from the sky. She stole the fleeting liberty of imagining what he'd do if she jumped... but didn't appear to be considering it. She only liked the view.
"Fencing? You want me to be dangerous?" The tone trotted over closer to where his question had been born, and she couldn't help but show the faintest flick of confounding in how her chin angled. A hobby? Why? All his suggestions of her were one heavy ornament forming a roped rock, looping around the curve of her ankle, sinking her into stability ...
Didn't he know that madness thrived on pandemonium...