Duck Lake the long fall

Around a mouthful of feathers her lips peel in an instinctual grin-snarl, followed by a slow and apologetic wag of her tail as if she is surprised at her own aggression.

Already she can feel his cool, judgemental stare. Though it does not come, and his unexpected words bring a prickling warmth to her skin that perhaps reflects a more selfish thought; she wouldn't have shared with him anyway.

Thrusting the bird at her feet, she spends an awkward moment devouring the thing in silence with a slovenly greed unbefitting of her status before finally acknowledging his question. Her name?

"白 扶摇." Clearing her throat, she sits regally tall, if one were to ignore the feathers stuck to her chest. "I am Princess Fúyáo. And you?" In the common tongue, for less civilised ears.