I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
He really wasn’t paying much attention to whateverthefuck is going on around his nice little glen. To be honest, he doesn’t really give a shit, as long as they leave him the hell alone. But, well, let’s be real. He’s just really not very good at not getting noticed. He really doesn’t fucking know why, probably another goddamned curse. But whatever the hell it is, it never seems to want to let him get some goddamned sleep.
Still, he couldn’t ignore the fact that someone was out there, fucking up his peace and quiet.
With a groan, he pulls himself upright, lips tugging immediately into a scowl. As he pulls himself to his feet, he stretches, a yawn splitting his jaw before he shakes himself violently, loose hair and dust and feathers releasing into the air around him. With a grunt, he settles his wings against his pale sides, head coming up as he glares around him.
He’d tucked himself into a nice little nook surrounded by stones, but apparently that isn’t fucking enough. The lines of his scowl etching deeper, he ambles from his hollow to confront the disturber of his peace. He sees her almost immediately, peering at her own reflection in the slower moving current this particular section of river offers.
Leaning idly against the rock he’d just rounded, he eyes her openly. Probably a little perversely too, let’s be real. But hell, even that muck and gore crusting her lithe little body can’t hide the lovely form beneath. And we already know he’s really not that fucking picky. Besides, he likes a girl who can handle a little bloodshed.
When she finally speaks, he straightens slowly, tail flicking his haunch casually as he tries to decide whether she’s talking to him or her reflection. Hell, does it really fucking matter?
“I’m really not the hello type,” he intones rather nonchalantly, his voice low, equal parts irritated and amused. “More the ‘Fuck you’ type.”
