Good evening, Dominus. Again, those lips pronounce the shape of a smile and he nods. I am Magnus Jove. The gentle arch of an eyebrow asks for the courtesy of her name in return. Wings shift, dithering, then collapse in a semblance of dignity against the back of the girl's head and shoulders.
Bright eyes peer.
You are perceptive. He glances around and chooses the ledge of a stone bench nearby for his own seat. Feathers rustle against one another as he settles and the heavy folds of his robe safely enfold the vision of his 'naked' feet. I have lost one of my sandals. A hand reaches and twitches back the scalloped hem of her robe, revealing that, indeed, one foot is quite bare.