"Rufus, your flying is so poetic. You float and lift your wings together until they almost touch. Then you push your wings open to glide on the currents of air that move you this way and that way."
"Perfecting, Rhyonna. Pulling my wings up quickly. Pushing down slowly for a puff of air. Opening, floating down, perfecting!"
"You use gravity."
"Pushing against the tugging down. Rising up. Amazing!"
"Your landing is art," admires Rhyonna.
Rufus moves his wings up and down and giggles, "Art?"
"When you want to stop, you purposely fold your wings together, gravity pulls you down, and you gracefully land on your feet."
Wiggling his feelers, Rufus considers.
"Pleasing simple. Closing before the wind pushes up. Using the tugging down. Gripping and holding with legs. Tasting with feet!"
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