Sam's been, well, skeptical about this whole magic thing since he found out about it. Yeah, okay, so he's seen Wanda use magic, but that's Wanda, and it's a result of being experimented on by HYDRA. He's just a normal guy, and magic isn't really something he's used to.
But, hey, a lot of being an Avenger involves new experiences - like getting his ass kicked by a guy who's the size of an ant - so he's going to grudgingly accept the whole magic thing for now and, more importantly, learn how to use it. He's been standing around the edge of the crowd with the Scholars now for a few days. Addie's muscles have developed enough that she can balance on his shoulder, and they watch and listen together.
Eventually, it's his turn to practice. He focuses on the thought of a shield of air surrounding his arm while one of the Scholars gently throws pebbles at him. The first few hit his arm, but then something clicks and the shield solidifies. He blocks the next few, but one bounces off the shield and hits the person next to him.
"Sorry," he apologizes. "Still got a lot of learning to do."
[B: Grifflings...] One of the younger grifflings, a tabby with tortoiseshell splotches, has befriended Addie. Though the dragon is still too young to fly - she's just starting to grow black and white pinfeathers on the edges of her wings and the tip of her tail - the two of them tumble around playing games. Sam keeps a cautious eye on them, just in case; he knows the griffling won't hurt her, but all kids get injured accidentally while playing.
At one point, the griffling bats Addie harder than she should, and the hatchling tumbles head over heels, rolling out of the cave in a ball of fluff and into another Scion's path. Sam rushes after her like a helicopter parent, but he's not quick enough to keep her from spreading fluffy wings and hissing irritably at the sudden large obstacle in her path.
"She's not mad at you, just fussy." He scoops her up and deposits her on his shoulder, where she burrows into the crook of his neck. "Behave, Addie."
[C: ...and griffins.]
Sam watches the griffins fly with an undisguised longing. He knows he wouldn't be able to use his jetpack if he was at home - if home wasn't destroyed - but that doesn't mean he can't still wish for it. It probably comes as a surprise to exactly no one who knows him when he finds himself drawn to one griffin in particular, slate grey with barred feathers. He starts by bringing the creature food; Addie always has too much, and while it's nothing more than a tidbit to the griffin, he can tell he likes it.
Eventually, the griffin lets Sam pet him, beak hanging open with pleasure when Sam scratches behind his eartufts. He kneels, letting Sam climb on his back; Sam seats himself in front of the wings, making sure Addie is carefully secured in her pouch and holding the pouch in front of him. Then they take off, Sam leaning close to the griffin's neck, and that's exactly what he's been missing, the feeling of weightlessness, the wind rushing over him. He grins broadly, not bothering to stifle a whoop of pure delight. There's an echoed happy chitter from the pouch as Addie pokes her head out.
Over the course of the next several days, Sam keeps coming back to ride his new friend, flying over Nuren in broad swoops and spirals, and occasionally even racing other griffins (and maybe even their passengers). He takes to it like he's a natural. It's not quite as good as having his own set of wings, but he sure as hell isn't complaining, not when he's happier than he's been ever since he arrived in Nuren.
Sam Wilson | Open, will match format
Sam's been, well, skeptical about this whole magic thing since he found out about it. Yeah, okay, so he's seen Wanda use magic, but that's Wanda, and it's a result of being experimented on by HYDRA. He's just a normal guy, and magic isn't really something he's used to.
But, hey, a lot of being an Avenger involves new experiences - like getting his ass kicked by a guy who's the size of an ant - so he's going to grudgingly accept the whole magic thing for now and, more importantly, learn how to use it. He's been standing around the edge of the crowd with the Scholars now for a few days. Addie's muscles have developed enough that she can balance on his shoulder, and they watch and listen together.
Eventually, it's his turn to practice. He focuses on the thought of a shield of air surrounding his arm while one of the Scholars gently throws pebbles at him. The first few hit his arm, but then something clicks and the shield solidifies. He blocks the next few, but one bounces off the shield and hits the person next to him.
"Sorry," he apologizes. "Still got a lot of learning to do."
[B: Grifflings...]
One of the younger grifflings, a tabby with tortoiseshell splotches, has befriended Addie. Though the dragon is still too young to fly - she's just starting to grow black and white pinfeathers on the edges of her wings and the tip of her tail - the two of them tumble around playing games. Sam keeps a cautious eye on them, just in case; he knows the griffling won't hurt her, but all kids get injured accidentally while playing.
At one point, the griffling bats Addie harder than she should, and the hatchling tumbles head over heels, rolling out of the cave in a ball of fluff and into another Scion's path. Sam rushes after her like a helicopter parent, but he's not quick enough to keep her from spreading fluffy wings and hissing irritably at the sudden large obstacle in her path.
"She's not mad at you, just fussy." He scoops her up and deposits her on his shoulder, where she burrows into the crook of his neck. "Behave, Addie."
[C: ...and griffins.]
Sam watches the griffins fly with an undisguised longing. He knows he wouldn't be able to use his jetpack if he was at home - if home wasn't destroyed - but that doesn't mean he can't still wish for it. It probably comes as a surprise to exactly no one who knows him when he finds himself drawn to one griffin in particular, slate grey with barred feathers. He starts by bringing the creature food; Addie always has too much, and while it's nothing more than a tidbit to the griffin, he can tell he likes it.
Eventually, the griffin lets Sam pet him, beak hanging open with pleasure when Sam scratches behind his eartufts. He kneels, letting Sam climb on his back; Sam seats himself in front of the wings, making sure Addie is carefully secured in her pouch and holding the pouch in front of him. Then they take off, Sam leaning close to the griffin's neck, and that's exactly what he's been missing, the feeling of weightlessness, the wind rushing over him. He grins broadly, not bothering to stifle a whoop of pure delight. There's an echoed happy chitter from the pouch as Addie pokes her head out.
Over the course of the next several days, Sam keeps coming back to ride his new friend, flying over Nuren in broad swoops and spirals, and occasionally even racing other griffins (and maybe even their passengers). He takes to it like he's a natural. It's not quite as good as having his own set of wings, but he sure as hell isn't complaining, not when he's happier than he's been ever since he arrived in Nuren.