[As soon as the burden of her own self-preservation has been neatly removed from her shoulders, a fair amount of Summer's attention span frees up for other considerations — like paying attention to what Ezar does as he falls. It's perplexing at first, because after he catches her she's expecting him to swoop or turn or spiral, something to burn off his speed and momentum, but he doesn't. They just plummet, down and down and down, and maybe she'd be more afraid except for the fact that there's no fear whatsoever in Ezar. No hesitation.
And so she waits.
It's after he has them ricocheting back up toward the landing they'd first leapt from that it occurs to her to be jealous, in that way she always is when someone else is better at something than she is. The kind of jealous that makes something inside her go no, me too, me too, and why not? If he can do it, why can't she?
A question for another time, once he sets her down and pats her head and she gradually lets go of his shirt —]
...!
[...And her knees buckle almost instantly from the rush and the failed Manna expenditure besides, sending her collapsing into a dignified heap on the rooftop.]
no subject
And so she waits.
It's after he has them ricocheting back up toward the landing they'd first leapt from that it occurs to her to be jealous, in that way she always is when someone else is better at something than she is. The kind of jealous that makes something inside her go no, me too, me too, and why not? If he can do it, why can't she?
A question for another time, once he sets her down and pats her head and she gradually lets go of his shirt —]
...!
[...And her knees buckle almost instantly from the rush and the failed Manna expenditure besides, sending her collapsing into a dignified heap on the rooftop.]
Oh...that doesn't feel good...