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Ayita kept her eyes flickering about the craft as Nick and Christopher spoke to her. The lofty youth's wording left her head throbbing and rather annoyed. She was hardly fatalistic dramatic, she was a survivalist and her thought was based on that. Life was never assured and life insurance was something the shifter found foolish. Glancing in Nick's direction she gave a slight shrug. "I can become creatures that I know. Their minds, their bodies, their instincts." The Alaskan gave a short cough that sounded a bit more like a crow. "I'm them. I may look human, but I'm them." She was indeed them, wanting to snatch the shiny metal about her and fly it to a safe nest or give it in favor to the leaders of the local flocks. She could feel the wind under her still, and the need to soar and joust with the youngesters. Proving her strength and her skill. Her pride in those black feathers that still clung her her though they were no longer anchored. Behind that laid the echo of stripes and jungle. The feel of earth and the hunt.