Extra: Cherub Floof
@lychee-days was the third place winner of the Friday the Thirteenth ask frenzy. She requested some floof as cherubs. Hope you enjoy! (250 words, clocks in at 462)
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“What are you doing?”
Two heads jerk up guiltily as Israfel crosses his arms.
“Uh…” Ramiel responds eloquently, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Gabriel wanted some attention,” Michael says, hand still hovering over the cherub flopped on the ground.
The youngest of their nest bounces to their feet. “Izzy!”
“Gabriel, you really should start—oof!” They throw themself at Israfel, the older angel barely catching them in time. “You should start to clean your own wings,” he chides, sweeping aside some downy strands of hair.
Large eyes gaze up at him. “But grooming is a common bonding activity!” they proclaim. The carefully practiced syllables make it obvious that they are quoting one of their teachers.
“Problem is, I only have two wings, and three nestmates.” Their lower lip juts out, their small hands tangled in Israfel’s robes.
“Hmm, that is a problem, is it not?” he asks, kneeling down so his lanky form is on level with Gabriel’s still small one. They are growing up fast, he realizes, their face losing the roundness of youth. Soon they’ll all be considered seraphs, and proper training will begin.
“It is,” Gabriel says, completely serious.
“Show me your wings. Let us see how clean they got them.”
“We know how to clean wings!” Michael exclaims, miffed that Gabriel’s attention has shifted away from him.
“Mymy and Rami do good,” Gabriel agrees.
“Do well,” Israfel corrects.
“Do well,” Gabriel echoes with a small giggle.
They let go of Israfel, turning and proudly snapping out their wings. “See?” they ask, trying to crane their head over their shoulder to watch Israfel. With gentle fingers he cards through their feathers, noting how long they’re getting and the very sparse remnants of down.
“Hmm, they are getting big.”
“And soon I will have more! So we can groom together,” they say, bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet, wings flapping with excitement.
“Oh? Well then you are going to have to grow up fast if you want more wings.” Israfel waits, and true to form Gabriel turns around to stare at them.
“I want to be big like you.”
Leaning down, Israfel presses their foreheads together. “I know, little one. But let us not be in any rush, hmm? I like you how you are. We can take turns grooming wings. You might have two, but together we have eight. Plenty to go around.”
Gabriel huffs a sigh. “Alright, Izzy,” they say. “But one day I am going to have six wings so everyone has a pair to clean.”
Israfel laughs and musses their hair as he stands up. “One day,” he agrees. “And until then, how about we go see if you can glide further?”
The rapid clapping of small hands answers his question.
