Page 86 of Ruby
She jerks upright so fast she knocks into him with her bone crown. “You are absolutely not.”
Drasuk doesn’t flinch. He towers over her, mouth slightly ajar, eyes fixed on the protrusions like they’re a personal insult.
“They are a weakness,” he says flatly. “No warrior should have wings.”
“Oh my God,” she snaps. “You prehistoric control freak, they are attached to me.”
“They compromise your balance.”
“They let me fly.”
“You do not fly well,” he taunts.
She shakes in fury.
It’s a disturbing sight. Him built like a siege weapon, her lean and bright and furious, but she doesn’t hesitate. She steps directly into his space, jabbing a finger into his big chest.
“I just saved Bird-Guy and his girlfriend with these ‘compromised balance’ accessories.”
“I hear you were unstable,” he argues.
“Fuck no,” she seethes. “I was exquisitely dramatic.”
“You were inefficient,” Drasuk lobs back.
“I was airborne, you idiot,” she says through gritted teeth. “You’re just jealous because your giant ass can’t get off the ground.”
He leans down slightly, examining the base of one wing with clinical focus. “If removed early, regeneration may correct the mutation.”
She recoils, hands flying protectively over her back. “Stop volunteering to mutilate me!”
“It would be quick.”
“I do not care how quick your unauthorized wing-amputation fantasy is!” she barks.
He straightens. “You are a fighter. Fighters do not need proto-wings.”
She laughs, sharp and disbelieving. “Says who? The Anti-Air Force?”
“Combat is grounded,” Drasuk rumbles back. “Direct. Wings imply retreat.”
“Or advantage,” she shoots back. “Height. Mobility. Surprise. Ever heard of it?”
His jaw tightens. “Predators strike from solid footing.”
“Predators also dive from the sky,” she counters. “Have you never seen a bird?”
“I do not model myself after prey animals.”
She makes a strangled sound of outrage. “You did not just call my wings prey-coded.”
“They are ornamental at best.”
“They are tactical at best,” she fires back. “And fabulous.”
He reaches toward one experimentally. She punches his limb away. Hard.
“If you bite me,” she warns, voice dropping into something dangerous, “I will personally test whether drakonid balls grow back.”
