[With something to keep the motion from pulling him back down, Sakuya is able to heave his wings up out of the muck. Their surface area is much larger than a human's hands and arms, so he's able to splay them across the dry salt crust and push down without breaking it. The crust is thin enough here, as evidenced by him being able to free his wings from it, that he can't just haul his rounded, heavy pigeon body out on top. Instead it breaks around his chest like thin ice around the bow of a ship as he goes, rowing painstakingly with his wings and repeatedly commanding Sunny "Now pull!"
It is a whole process and quite unpleasant, and once he feels something solid underfoot Sakuya is only too happy to stagger clear of the River and convulsively shake his head, wings, and tail, sending salty mud in every direction. Avian instincts demand he shake more and preen, immediately. Decorum and training demand he do no such thing. Taking a more upright, proud posture, he looks the human in the eye. They are savage creatures, he's not surprised to see only one now that he's in a position to notice.]
Satisfactory. You have my thanks.
What a humiliating entrance. This is death, is it not? Hmph.
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It is a whole process and quite unpleasant, and once he feels something solid underfoot Sakuya is only too happy to stagger clear of the River and convulsively shake his head, wings, and tail, sending salty mud in every direction. Avian instincts demand he shake more and preen, immediately. Decorum and training demand he do no such thing. Taking a more upright, proud posture, he looks the human in the eye. They are savage creatures, he's not surprised to see only one now that he's in a position to notice.]
Satisfactory. You have my thanks.
What a humiliating entrance. This is death, is it not? Hmph.