Rest of Thread Here @zanero-meaveââ
Zane was the only one, besides Alyzza, to witness Izaics wings. On the first time the fallen angel wanted to fly out at night, Zane has to admit he was a bit concerned. What if he was caught? Or even shot? What if his neighbors see him flying and notice it is bigger than a normal bird? As time went on, these questions became less of something to worry about. As long as Izaic returned at a certain cerfew everything was okay.
However, this was the first time Izaic was late to come back. Zane was awake at this time, having his routinely before-bed treat to wait. But so far, no bird-winged man came back to the house yet. He gave Izaic a few more forgiving minutes before he officially thought something was wrong. With one last bite of his chocolate mousse cake, he gets up and grabs his coat. Alyzza should be fine. All Zane has to do is find Izaic.
With the darkness of night and the darkness of his usual attire, he blends in well with the shadows besides his pale skin that shines in the moonlight. He puts his mask on, but keeps it around his neck instead. Since hes going outside, it wouldnt hurt to maybe use a cigarette to warm him up a bit while he had the chance. He pockets his lighter with his almost-empty cigarette pack before heading out.
A cigarette was placed between his lips after walking a block away from his house. He looks around, hoping to maybe spot the flyer in the air. It was too dark to tell, but he kept his eyes close to the sky as he walked.
Izaic managed to stand up. He was in so much man he could barely keep conscious. Moving wasnât an option right now. Flying wasnât an option. He even stopped his breathing so it wouldnât irritate anything. He had to put his wings away, He needed to get home.
Pain.Â
The process of putting away his wings was never painful, but it was enough that Izaic screamed. He held his balance as sweat and blood poured down his face. Putting his wings away wasnât possible either. Holding his shoulder, he whimpered, trying to calm down, but it so much he nearly passed out again. He had never broken a wing before. His head was pounding, and his eyes blurred, making it difficult to see. He felt dizzy and nauseous, like at any second he could throw up. Even if he was in no good place to walk, he knew he couldnât stay there. Each step hurt. It hurt so much that he had to bite back any yelp that tried to escape. However, with gritted teeth, it didnât stop much. He wasnât moving very fast. He was limping, trying not to move too much, and trying to keep his balance. He was, in all realness, fucked up.Â
