Castiel shrugged casually. He didn't understand why Helena was smiling, but he was pleased that she was. He didn't know how to make others happy, aside from acquiescing to their wishes. That seemed fairly simple. "Technically, I don't breathe," he replied. "But you're right...it likely has to do with a shift of focus. It's unfamiliar, but humanity appreciates diversion. As for what I'm feeling, that's...yes. Emulation is key."
Flight was pleasant. There had been a time where he'd vaguely come to the conclusion that he would miss it, were he to survive the apocalypse. At the time, he'd burned out the last of his Grace and the conclusion had been a semi-realistic one. Then again, he'd also expected to be killed by Lucifer or one of his demons in the final confrontation, so he'd also assumed he wouldn't miss it for very long. When considering the feeling associated with flight, he supposed Helena had a point.
For someone who lacked guidance as much as he did, she still had a better grasp on humanity. Or emotions, at the very least. That was likely an aspect of having a soul.
When she lifted herself, he studied her, but didn't answer immediately. "I would not cheat you," he assured her. "There would simply be climbing involved, seeing as you seem to appreciate the more athletic aspects. Also, I will ask permission to touch your shoulder or arm, depending upon what is in reach."