[This is why Margot liked hanging around Immy. She's nuts.

With a grumble, she calls out.] Some of us haven't gotten our flying in yet, you know!

[Beneath her coat were a small pair of wings, nothing to write home about. One day, she would level up and be a flying badass, but that day isn't going to happen anytime soon.

Thankfully the distance between the window and the ravine isn't too far. Giving it no further thought beyond that, Margot dashes forward, tuck-rolling through the broken window.

Shaking glass out of her feather-speckled hair, she looks around, then snaps a small flame into existence.]

One day, you're gonna die and I'm not gonna go to your funeral. Just saying.