Well fuckin' no shit, you think I'm wearin' leaves an' twigs to be fashionable?

[ For emphasis, she points to her head (full of sticks and leaves) and outstretches her wings (no twigs, but leaves poked in amongst her messy little feathers haphazardly). His response to the question is indeed disappointing, and it makes Apollo drop her arms and pout at him. ]

Guess we ain't flightmates, then. Our dragon leader's an asshole an' our sanctum's all volcano bullshit though, guess you ain't missin' much. [ Shrug. ] So what colour are you, huh? [ She steps closer - don't make her poke it out of you because she will. ] Green? I hear they like to sleep all fuckin' day.