Fravashi.

“I’m not your person pilot, goddamnit.” Asher growled. Satin remained attached to his forearm, absolutely unrelenting.
“Just once!”
“You’re acting like the goddamn little sister.” Snarl. Attempted freedom. Cue dramatic stage fall.
“Damien would have flown with me.” Satin sighed, her eyes literally struggling to read Asher’s face. Awkward, given that his fall had now placed her in a perch atop his ribcage.
His gaze was Arctic in both hospitality and color.
“Get the hell off me.”
A minute passed and Satin resorted to pouting against a peeling wall as Asher stood on the brink, ragged wings spread.