Fallen Sapling sits up in his bunk, Sunny giving him a displeased mraow as she flumps to the bed, displaced from her spot napping on his chest. He gives a rare slight smile, which effectively just moved his face from a resting scowl to neutral, and reaches over to give her some scritches behind her ear like she always likes. He stretches, well, as much as he can given his 7'4" frame is not well suited to tiny rooms made for humans—even though he is rather lean for his kind, his wingspan still easily reaches eight feet. Despite the cramped spaces Fallen Sapling kept to his room for nearly the entirety of the week long trip, the discomfort of the room slightly more tolerable than the presence of the crew and his mourning kin.
The bone charms and wooden totems his hair clink softly as he reaches for his pack and unstrung bow. Sunny mraows again, sending a question through their psychic link. Fallen replies back with an image of their old home, a small cabin, but the land around it is unfamiliar. A tinge of fear and grief crosses to her through their bond, but also curiosity and wonder at the idea of new lands to roam together.
He stands and pats his shoulder for Sunny to join him. She obliges, sharp claws digging into his worn leather jerkin as she climbs to her perch. She gives him a rough nuzzle, the scales and spines atop her head scratching against his green skin, then points with her nose to the door. An image of a Jademane flicking the reigns of his mount comes through their bond, as if to say "Onward steed!" Fallen Sapling gives a light snort, sending her a mixture of amusement and fear.