Flying isn't hard...is it?

"It's frail. I've never flew long distances before, so when I didn't believe I could balance myself, I kinda crushed one." Tch, he was so complicating, Haku thought of himself.

His wings brushed against him almost comfortingly, and he poked the bleeding spot cautiously. He yelped, his wing flinching, no almost whacking around the wind. "Well, I can't really fly with this bothering me..."

Feeling the area along the spot, his thoughts were finally confirmed. 'I actually did break a bone. Pathetic.'

He shook his head, "Not really. I don't want to bother the nurse either. It'll heal some day or another day."

"Well, what are you... suggesting you should do?" he asked, hesistantly, wondering what he would do.

He was confused and slightly surprised in this person's gesture of movement. Ah wells, he had something to do anyway. Fly. Or try to.

"Well, if you excuse me, I might want to try and fly." He lifted off again, most of his weight was supported on his left wing, the one that didn't have the big bleeding gash in it. (Actually, the right wing hadn't a big injury before but after straining it for many attempts... you'd get the picture.)

He flew in circles, trying to get used to flying, or being in the air. It wasn't much different in his slight levitating power, his other power.

Which reminded him. He was an idiot to not use it to save him from his drop.

Coldness nipped at his opened wound, so he was forced to land down again, wincing as the tendons and ligaments were stretched in his other wing. The short five minute flight pretty much took all the energy out of him, and he collapsed, his wings folding up behind him, tired.

"I am really, really pathetic..." he remarked quietly, more to himself than anyone else.