"I haven't gotten the hang of mine, either. Or the wings." Or the body, though at least she can control that part.

His question earns him a weak chuckle. "I really, really would," she says dryly, shifting her grip on the branch and sending a few shards of bark tumbling to the ground. If someone could cooperate for a few minutes, she adds to Aiden. Just put the fucking wings away, already.

The tail lashes irritably, but a few moments later, Aiden folds his wings shut. "Okay," Jodie says. Then, "You, uh, might want to step back a little." She neither trusts Aiden not to lash out for no damn reason, nor entirely trusts herself to get out of the tree with any kind of grace. She's spent too much of her time fighting Aiden and not enough actually figuring her new body out.

She winds up scooting down the tree backwards. There's a lot of claw-scraping and bark-showering before Jodie finally makes a last awkward leap down onto the grass (Aiden spitefully keeps his wings folded rather than help her out with the last drop), and she immediately digs her claws into the earth to discourage Aiden from hoisting her into the air again. "I'm Jodie," she says, looking up at the goat-man.