I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Absolutely fucking disgusting, that’s what this is. His pale legs are brown, mud coating one side of his once kinda nice white coat. Goddamn but what he wouldn’t give for a single damned dry day. Grumbling something no doubt unsavory under his breath, he snaps his pale wings open, sending another arc of moisture across the already soaked earth. And holy fucking shit! He almost smacks the suckers right into a kid’s face in the process.
“Fuck!” The expletive leaves his lips before he can call it back, brown eyes jumping to the little figure who had appeared outta fucking nowhere. Shit, doesn’t the little brat know to watch where she’s going? I mean, he’s not really into kids, but hell and damnation, that doesn’t mean he’s into punching the little shits right in the face either.
There’s something vaguely familiar about her, but hell if he can place it. Not like he’d really fucking tried anyway. If they wanted him to know who they are, they could damned well tell him. He’s isn’t some fucking prophet. Or whatever the hell they call those prophetic little twats. Brooding moodily, his lips twist into a scowl as he stares at her. Finally, after a moment of silent consideration, he sighs. Fuck it.
“Go home little girl,” he mutters, dismissing her as easily as he’d found her. “The meadow ain’t a place for damned infants.” He didn’t need some angry mother charging at him over some perceived fucking sleight to her precious little angel. Nope, definitely not the kinda shit he’s into.
I'm sorry, he's a twatwaffle :|