No, I'M sorry for the delay! 
The Phoenix boy eagerly turned and began to lead the way; as if absorbing his confidence, Micah perked his ears and raised his tail like a waving flag, gingerly trotting after his newfound companion. Other than his sisters, he knew no one in the area, and was usually much too nervous to go about introducing himself to complete strangers — so any progression in making himself known or comfortable was a great step in the right direction for the salt-and-peppered boy.
As he considered this, Gotham called out once more and took off in a run across the house, kicking up dust and grime into the coyote's brown eyes; Micah wiggled his nose irritably before finally sneezing. With a furrow of the brows and a determined smirk, the Lykoi boy scratched his claws against the woodwork and sped after the black Phoenix. Of course, he was still only Micah — there was no "surprising" speed in his run, no "interesting" maneuvers around the furniture, no "skill" displayed in his chase. He could hold himself in a run, but presented no above-average abilities that caught him up to Gotham. Instead, he kept up with a maintained distance, but was unable to move any faster.
His smile waned rather quickly, disappointed and embarrassed, and he soon slowed down to walk once more. The confidence displayed before seeped from him, ears and tail hanging and humiliation in his chocolate eyes. Whenever Gotham returned to him, the Lykoi boy kept his eyes on the floor and sulked. "I'm not a very good runner," he mumbled, barely audible, trying to hide his panting breaths. I'm not a very good anything.
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