Nakhti grimaced.
"Father never taught me how to change the color he said it was impractical and a waste of time. Never figured it out. As for flight"
Nakhti focused and the butterfly of ice started to do a figure eight over his head before the heat got to it. On the third pass over his head the left wing craced then fell apart before spiraling into th dirt and melting into the ground due to the ice's thinness.
"I have more luck doing that in the cold and only if it remains close to me. How am I doing so far Tig?"
The Suites
The most classy, organised, literate general discussion guild on Gaia, with lots of friendly, welcoming members.
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