How to life as Aarakocra
Padma and Dorje stepped into the elevator, the doors sliding shut with a mechanical hum. As the lift began its ascent to the third floor, Dorje cast a disgruntled glance at Padma, her expression darkening.
"I don't see how you can force me to ride a machine made by a short creature," Dorje grumbled. She hugged herself with her large wings, their feather expanse nearly filling half of the space. She felt discomfort, the usually span of her wings now drawn tightly around her in a gesture of self-protection.
"You should be even more grateful that the dwarves made it possible for an Aarakocra like me to ride up there with you," Padma answered, smiling in response to Dorje's grumbling.
"You can't fly here!" shouted Dorje. "Don't you feel like you're being buried? This place is cramped, and I can't even flap my wings properly."