The fur didn't give, which irritated Kalama, but most things did. She held on until she felt a tug on her feathers. She squawked in suprise, an already loose downy feather falling out. It didn't really hurt, but she didn't enjoy the tug on her feathers. But, atleast she was that much closer to having adult feathers, she thought proudly.

"It-It doesn't bother me! I don't feel anything!" She snapped at Imp. Kalama would fight dirty. Her attempt to go for the fur didn't work, but she could do worse. She briefly considered showing off her spur, making him afraid, but why do that when she could just bite Imp again and get the same satisfaction. So, with that in mind, Kalama charged Imp's wing. She'd show him weak spots. Her movements were growing sluggish, but she lunged, going for Imp's wing once again. She falls flat, much to her anger.

Speech. Thought

"I don't use magicka." Kalama hisses. She spits the last word, as if the concept of magicka itself was an insult to her. "Magicka is for cowards."

She had been about to continue her rant, when Imp sent a blast of hot air rolled over her. She froze in suprise, beak parted, only unfreezing when she realized she was unhurt. Imp called her a dummy. Kalama was not a dummy. She'd show him dummy.

"I'm not the dummy!" She protests, almost childishly. "You're the dummy! I can use magicka if I want to." She snaps.

She glared at Imp as she pulled on her often neglected magicka , settling it into the one spell she knew, Char. Heat seeped into her tail and the top of her head, pain sparking as her down and feathers began to smoke, the fowl stench of burning feathers blossoming. She stomped her feet.

"Hows that for magicka." She says, voice cracking under her combined pain and anger.

It was then that she realized she had no clue how to use the spell offensively, completely distracted from attacking Imp once more.
Speech. Thought