A flutter of dusky feathers interrupted further conversation with the Nalbet family member as Qatrand raised her arm on instinct. The Skydancer that had rushed through her net of spiritual tendrils settled onto the steel-cable of a wrist with much familiarity, small talons gripping down on the fancy black leather armguard revealed underneath the suit's sleeve.
The practical tool from her wife, once meant to help herself be located when she 'disappeared' while meditating, had gotten a lot more use as a perch for this avian messenger than it ever had for its anti-toxin effect… as far as she was aware. Of course, most cultivators wouldn't count the neutralization of any slight dermatoxins that would heal naturally and barely bother their physical energy as a big benefit.
