do you think God stays in his heaven because he, too, lives in fear of what he has created?
He stretches almost like a cat, dragging his talons through the river mud and leaving deep gashes in their wake. His wings spread with the sun turning the membrane of the appendages a strange peachy-red sort of color. Veins of varying sizes are visible for a brief second before he folds the wings over his back with a quick snap. The ragged wounds across his face have begun to heal, slowly, but they still hurt from time to time. Ghaul wades slowly into the river where he takes a deep breath and plunges his face into the stream. The water always stings at first, but the coolness of it soothes his scarring tissue.
Little air bubbles stream up from his nose until he lifts his head once more. The water is still chilly from the winter snow fighting to hang on a little longer in the north but he doesn’t seem to mind. It is only a minor inconvenience in exchange for some relief from the marks Sochi left him with. He wonders if they will be friends or if he will always want to peel her face from her skull. Either way, he doesn’t intend to invest any of his hope in any sort of relationship with her, friendly or not. He dips his muzzle into the river a second time and gives his head a little shake to ensure it’s fully soaked.
When he lifts his head a final time, his ears swivel forward to listen to the various voices around him. None of them are familiar nor are their heat signatures. The frigid water trickles down his chin as he climbs back up the river bank, shivering and tucking his wings around him like a shawl. He observes the various blurs around him for a while before he notices one almost similar to the woman whose wing he claimed for himself. This one is not quite so small, however, and he wonders if it would put up a greater challenge.
But these fresh wounds deter him from opening his mouth wide enough to rip another limb from its socket, he thinks. A defeated sigh escapes him as he wanders closer to the figure, head tilted as he croons quietly to himself.
“I like your wings,” he says with a smile that is all teeth and little warmth. “I am Ghaul.”
@[Pteron] what a creep im so sorry