He listened as Renasci laid out the terms of their agreement, but frowned and shook his head.
He almost wanted to descend into solidarity with Renasci, to admit he'd hardly used his own scythes, either--even to laugh about it. But pride and shame kept him silent, jaw clenched almost as if he were angry.
For the first time in their conversation, the feathers along the back of Renasci's head and down their spine rise at the tone taken about this so-called Master Vargas.
Both ears flick again, this time not as sharp, at the mention of a tay-lor and the Palace.
For seeming distracted for a moment, their attention snaps right back to the situation at hand.
Then they smile- a competitive edge and sharpness behind their eyes.
The mention of fire piqued his interest. V-Onyx-Two hadn't met someone who wielded that element--well, Nidhogg did, but he didn't use it as a rule. He mostly just bit things. The idea of being simply burned apart, having his feathers seared off, was honestly frightening and he tried not to shrink away from the slightly smaller bird-person at the concept. He struggled to stay straight-faced, to stand tall, despite the worry that threatened to tighten his jaw and widen his eyes.
He gestured to Renasci with one of the sickles, indicating that they should lead on.
One shake of their wings to discharge the ash and attempt to let the embers they hopefully ignite flare, they watch the other take to the sky with now sharply slitted pupils. A hiss at the lack of embers, but instead a crackling heat-like pain under the skin, and they hope that won't bite them in the tail feathers later.
It certainly was a facade, but the sort that was drawn up like a shield--the kind that, when his self-esteem were pressed, would only be solidified further into place.
As for Renasci's insistence about the Masters, he scoffed, a short and dismissive laugh.
It was snobbery, and nothing more. Although, perhaps, there was a grain of truth behind it.
That was hardly Renasci's fault, but Onyx-Two felt the need to bask in his 'rightness,' for just a moment.
Okay, moment over. He followed, his actual physical ability trailing far behind what his mockery implied--he struggled simply to keep up, already panting with beating wings as he fought to follow Renasci's nimble banking. Rather than call out and request that the harpy slow down, however, he gritted his teeth--driven by pride--and pushed himself to catch up.
His hood flipped back with the wind, revealing black hair pulled back into a short ponytail and point-tipped ears; he squinted against the wind, working his wings hard to even pull even with Renasci's speed.
Keeping one feathered ear pointed in Onyx-Two's direction, they can pick up the struggling, and the odd whistle of wind over under-developed wings.
Casually, they fan their tail open to slow down and drift upwards slightly, pulling to the front right of Onyx-Two and attempting to catch the younger flyer on their current and make it easier.
He cast a sour glance forward, cold anger lacing his face briefly. Pride dictated that unwanted advice was bad-... but he had to admit, as he adjusted his angle and flared his wings, it was helpful. He huffed a soft
...Still, as a sort of olive branch, he reached into his robe. He had a few scraps of thin cloth--black ribbons, really--he used to tie up his own hair.
Even as he held it out, he realized just how much easier the flight was, now. The warm air was buoyant, even, so that he barely had to fold those wings to let him plummet--or flare them out to rise. Flapping was hardly even necessary, and he looked away again, hating just how little he clearly knew.
Sure they don't need to be useful, or not Alone but it's a nice feeling none the less.
The question from Onyx-Two makes them tilt their head to look over their shoulder, watching what the other offers with some curiosity.
They chirp again, or really it sounds more like something between a red-tailed hawk's shriek and a hiccuping chipmunk, as they then point with their left hand for Onyx-Two to see.
A smile touched his face despite himself--something about the harpy all twisted up midair, foot jutting outward and grabbing nothing, was an amusing picture. He forced it away. It wasn't dignified. But it was replaced not by anger, but rather with a studious concentration as he set about the delicate task of midair ribbon-transfer.
He tipped to one side, wings beating with constantly fluctuating tips and adjustments, and slid forward. It was a challenge, getting that close without collision, but after a moment he'd managed to tie the ribbon loosely, quickly, to one of Renasci's talons. It wasn't a long gesture or a deliberate mistrust of the talon-grab so much as a knowledge that if he didn't affix it even a little, and it went flying, they'd never get it back up here.
Onyx-Two is lucky Renasci didn't see the small smile, the harpy would be fully insufferable knowing they'd managed to crack that facade.
At least for a small bit.
Once close enough, they relax their wings and let themselves drift down, fluttering their wingtips a few times for the smoothest landing they can muster. They await V-Onyx-Two while tying their hair back, trying a few different things before frowning and starting a simple three part braid from their forehead to the crown of their head.