At least it didn’t fully impede her forelegs. Stretching them out, she donned her armor, polished and gleaming proudly, over the uniform with practiced motion. Checking the belts of her clothing one last time, Gilda stretched her wings, making sure she could actually still fly with the stupid vest, before she walked towards the exit, leaving her bare quarters (consisting of only hay bedding, small closet, and stone desk) behind. 