"Oh? Your people fly kites as well?" Marcella finishes weaving the little enchantment with one last connection and a complicated twisting of her callused fingers. The intricate lines of magic glow bright and orange for a minute before slowly fading, as if they're sinking into the silk and thread to which they're bound. Marcella hands the kite to Jim; it's faintly warm now, but otherwise feels just like normal.

"Would you pass me the next one? And does this mean Felix won't get to teach you how to fly them?" She's teasing her cousin a little, smiling when she hears him huff behind her.

While they talk, Felix concentrates on the pattern he's settled on trying, painting a few stylized feathers on the kite's wings. Stylized, because he's basing them on the shape of the Starfleet insignia, mirrored and stretched to fit the shape of the kite. He paints them in golden yellow and black - but mostly gold, trying to use no more paint than necessary.