If the Spanish Fly wasn't pink before she sure was now. The intensity of her embarrassment rose as she watched the young catgirl begin to pleasure herself. That was what the other one said her dare was. She couldn't watch but at the same time stole glances in curiosity. She shifted in her place and moved to the other side of the room. Her wings began to flutter a little in nervousness and she continued to tug and toy with a silken dark curl.<br/><br/>The sight of the girls furry body nude before all and the fact that she was, well wet, already was like nothing Fly had ever seen. Her lips curled inward to tuck between her teeth and her fingers continued to toy and tug at her long locks. She watched everyone's reaction and somehow had a feeling this was not abnormal for the group. Her heated cheeks burned as she moved closer to the breeze coming in from outside. A long sigh slipped out and she tore her gaze away to look outward, watching the leathery winged one begin to take flight.<br/><br/>Silently she wondered why he would go out during the day like that, where everyone could see him and where some may even hunt him. She had heard tales of people witch hunting those who were different. She bit at her lower lip a little harder and tilted her head wondering if he had, had those wings before. They weren't something she remembered seeing upon first entering the room, but then again it was all so overwhelming she could have missed it somehow.