Pipit was kind of lanky. He was flexible, and he was slender, and he was pretty fast. He had muscles; he had a nice set of abs. So what was he jealous of when he looked at Groose?
How in the hell Groose was tall, and strong, and just… big. He had arms that could wrap around a woman and protect them forever. Pick someone up effortlessly. He had a body that genuinely made girls swoon. Heck, even some of the boys had to swoon a little when he walked by without a top.
How had that happened? It must have been genetic—because Pipit could lift just as many weights as Groose did and he would never, ever, be like that. His body was just too skinny for that kind of look.
That didn't make him any less envious. Maybe if he was built like that, then girls would have noticed him more. Maybe he might actually beat Karane when they sparred hand to hand.
So when he stood a foot shorter than Groose—regardless of the fact that he was a year older than the pompadour sporting teen—and looked up at his towering form, built chest and strong arms… He often forgot what he was scolding him for.
"…Hello..? Wake up!" Pipit blinked into reality again when Groose was waving his hand in front of his face.
"Huh…"
"Ya were about to yell at me fer callin' Fledge a pussy."
"Oh—right—that! You can't say things like that to someone an—!" Pipit stopped when Groose pushed the palm of his hand right up against the freckled face and pushed Pipit backwards.
"Seriously, bird-brain. You were just oogling me. I ain't about ta take you seriously." He scoffed and walked away, and Pipit found himself grumbling in irritation.
"It was only out of envy!" he called after Groose. Of course, that didn't really help his case.