Re: Edge of a rooftop; defying gravity/scaring himself
There was that laugh again. His. The one that belied who he might have been before..., well, this. It wasn't that he was laughing at her, because he wasn't, but he didn't think she'd ever been shown the difference. She was glaring at her stomach, for reasons as of yet unknown, and it was the intensity of the expression that amused Fiyero. He didn't seem bothered at all, when she then clarified, from beneath her pointed hat, that she'd been sarcastic. "I'll still take it as a compliment," he told her, feathers unruffled, his voice warm, almost familiar.
He felt familiar. Or she did, to him. And he wouldn't have been at all surprised that she didn't like the old fairy tales with prince charming coming in to save the day. Of course she didn't. It wasn't because of her green skin either, though maybe a lifetime of how people reacted to that skin did it. But, she seemed a little... contrary. Fiyero even used that to his own advantage, or he thought he did, when he asked if she was afraid to dance. But, instead of taking his hand and dancing with him, she began to move on her own.
Long, bony arms lifted above her head and she moved around like a marionette on jerking strings. He watched her a moment, somewhere been amused and enchanted. He had to say, it might not be good, but it was original. "How about with me?"