Zira waited until the hawk was in full flight before letting himself drift off the roof, and into flight. He flapped his wings to get the wind underneath him and behind up, allowing him to soar with as much grace as the hawk herself.
He smiled, as the wind rushed his face, as he felt weightless and carefree. He whooped and dive bombed several feet down, only to circle back up, and glide a bit on the air.