She'd touched him! With her wing! And she hadn't touched the others. He swelled with happiness, and the brief contact with the beautiful crimson gave him the surge that he needed. Nachith used the last of his reserves to whip around as she passed, and addressed her with an affectionate sound.

Will you fly with me, my lady? He would not reach, and would certainly not grab, unless she gave him leave.

(16, 4, 7, 4)