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This is a private RP between Nisshou H's Revyra and Dulcea's Nawat Crow. If you post without permission there will be shooting.

Nawat knew little of herds, and less of being a relaxing influence. What he did know was he had a wrap of stolen silk about his neck and no concept of who might still be on his tail. He hadn't heard anyone in some time though, and figured he was safe enough to slow down. It was a pretty little piece, with a few little stripes of shiny thread sewn through it. Not really worth the risk, now that he looked at it closer, damn.

Well, it had given him a rush and he felt energized, clambering over the hills determined to find someone to trade it off to. Possession is the crucial element, his dreams always reminded him. The scent on the air was a soq, that much he could tell, but it was just slightly off. Not that horrid scaled creature again, he hoped. "Is someone out there?" he called loudly, his voice feeling rather drowned out by the open space.

"No trouble, I assure you," he called back with a laugh as he came to the top of the hill. Most curious, he decided as he caught sight of her. She looked like the wind he'd met before, but much more feathered. Perhaps she'd be able to tell him how to get the blasted things out from beneath his skin. He knew they were there, the faint marks and the voices in his dreams told him so.

He waited for her there, not wanting to encroach on whatever territory she might hold here. "Just a crow who's lost sight of his nest," he added with a laugh, "Caught shiny handed and had to take to the wind." Not literally, of course, he found himself rather awkwardly grounded in this body, but in his mind he had soared. Only, he wasn't sure which direction.

"Better to announce my presence I've found," he laughed as he ran to catch up to her, "Else I've knocked heads more than a few times." And others tended to respond, which made his journeys a little less unpredictable. Wait, a loon? Loons were big clumsy creatures. Well, maybe she had the right of that.

"No loon here," he told her as he tried to keep up, "Nawat Crow at your service, collector and connoisseur of the finer points of life. You look like you could use a shiny." With that he pulled the scarf from around his neck, offering it to her sideways. "A true treasure, picked it up just today," he said around the fabric, his eyes alive with childish flirtation.

Nawat gave the thought pause, his ears twitching about awkwardly as he wrinkled up his face. "Share? I was never told of a share, everything I have I've found, made or taken. Where might I get a share?" he begged as he flipped the scarf back around his own shoulders. It was ill suited to his style, but not something he was willing to abandon either.

Wait, perhaps there was a catch to this share, as her saddle suggested. "Were there humans in this deal?" he asked, backing a bit as he looked about for them, "I'll not treat with humans, except those skilled in fletching." No, there were none around, at least not at the moment. He relaxed, falling in back beside her, "Have you ever seen them shoot those long bows? The arrows soar almost like the birds their backs are pieced from."

"I haven't seen them fired straight on," he laughed, "Only at my back as I ran. They don't appreciate borrowers it seems." Though you couldn't quite call taking apples borrowing, maybe he'd return different ones in time but none of the humans there had seemed keen on ever seeing him again. "Do you fly for them?" he added, tilting his head to examine her wings a little closer. They were different than those he'd seen before, with a much thicker plumage. He was fascinated, that much he had to admit, even if she seemed averse to his presence she hadn't straight out told him to leave.

Nawat found himself giggling at the thought of her spilling a rider. It was an odd thought to even imagine a gangly human pulling itself onto the back of such a fine plumed mare. "I'm weighed down by myself," he told her with a little sigh, flexing the muscles in his shoulders, "But in my dreams I soar." Sometimes he felt rather strange in his body, he supposed it would be his forever but every dream was the same. He'd find himself on the precipice of a cliff and jump, his bulky awkwardness shifting into the sleek form of a crow as the feathers emerged from beneath his skin. It was real, it just had to be. Though, he'd never been able to find that cliff. Sometimes others thought him mad for it.