[ In spite of all his evident misgivings, different different doesn't sound quite as terrible as the normal sort of different he'd had in mind, first, and with an encouraging flap of stunted wings (Go on), the chocobo bounces lightly in approval.
(It's a slightly embarrassing impulse, but there's simply nothing to be done for instinct ingrained so deeply as that little bobbing dance of enthusiasm.)
At that last lamentable realization, though, he finds it very easy to calm, again - right, of course, they couldn't really just sneak out and hope for the best. There was still the very real problem of being sixty-seven stories up.
This time, Cloud flaps a little despondently, turning away from the window and its suddenly rather tempting view of the outside world. Being a flightless giant (but still comparatively small) bird must make him a very disappointing sidekick...
But he's determined not to give up trying, yet! Leaving behind a couple of molted feathers in his hurry, he bolts back to his nest. Hidden behind and beneath the convenient array of furniture, the place where he sleeps is really just a messy collection of cast-off - mostly outgrown or unguarded clothing (the latter largely just coats pilfered from unwary lab techs). In his beak, he snatches up the sleeve of the nearest article and runs it out trailing behind him all the way to where the terribly imposing princess is busily brooding.
Leaving this lying in a dingy white line across the floor, he rushes back to repeat the retrieval a second time (stumbling only a little), then a third (falling down more than a little). Without hands, it's a difficult pantomime when he stops and attempts to excitedly imply that tying the clothes together into a rope might be the brightest idea he's ever had, but hopefully some of that warrrking translates. ]
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(It's a slightly embarrassing impulse, but there's simply nothing to be done for instinct ingrained so deeply as that little bobbing dance of enthusiasm.)
At that last lamentable realization, though, he finds it very easy to calm, again - right, of course, they couldn't really just sneak out and hope for the best. There was still the very real problem of being sixty-seven stories up.
This time, Cloud flaps a little despondently, turning away from the window and its suddenly rather tempting view of the outside world. Being a flightless giant (but still comparatively small) bird must make him a very disappointing sidekick...
But he's determined not to give up trying, yet! Leaving behind a couple of molted feathers in his hurry, he bolts back to his nest. Hidden behind and beneath the convenient array of furniture, the place where he sleeps is really just a messy collection of cast-off - mostly outgrown or unguarded clothing (the latter largely just coats pilfered from unwary lab techs). In his beak, he snatches up the sleeve of the nearest article and runs it out trailing behind him all the way to where the terribly imposing princess is busily brooding.
Leaving this lying in a dingy white line across the floor, he rushes back to repeat the retrieval a second time (stumbling only a little), then a third (falling down more than a little). Without hands, it's a difficult pantomime when he stops and attempts to excitedly imply that tying the clothes together into a rope might be the brightest idea he's ever had, but hopefully some of that warrrking translates. ]