simple is beautiful; it is better.

[Phaedrus]

This was not his strong suite. He is a man of few words, and fewer intentions of interaction as a diplomat. There were rumors of war, and dark moods loomed on the faces of his newly found kinsmen. There was silence in the kingdoms, and highly populated terrain in the meadows and feilds. Its winter and his wings were cramping, slowly caking with ice.

Its on one of those especially cold days, that the crisp air was lightened with a new scent, something more dainty then he had recognized in a while. As for the moment he was stretching his wings, nibbling gently along the hollow bones to melt the last bit of frost on them. With a slight sign of relief he expands them stretching them with a sigh, before meandering his way over to the borders where the scent he had picked up was coming from.

hello He queers at her curiously, running the length of her body with his eyes unsure if her intentions were good or not. Well best to follow by example in his book. So he quirks his lips in a oddly unused gesture of friendliness, before it disapates and returns to the grumpy sullen look that catches the details of the world. You need assistance? His colbalt tail switches his midnight colored hindquarters, already impatient to have this over with, and go back to sulking about the fight that he never got. Something that he would be looking forward to picking at later on after the deep frost had dissipated.

Phaedrus

DEATH GIVES US SLEEP, ETERNAL YOUTH, AND IMMORTALITY