I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Ahhhhh, hell yes. Goddamn, but he’d missed this. How the hell one misses something they’d only had for a brief time and not in decades (literally fucking decades), he’s not sure. But the hell if he hadn’t.
White wings stretched wide, he glides on a current, allowing the wind to buffet him along a twisted and winding path. He’s still practicing, getting used to the vagaries of flight. But holy shit it feels so fucking amazing. Freeing and all that jazz. Yeah, he’s not one to wax poetic. But if he was, oh man it would be fucking poetry.
Um, yeah, let’s pretend that thought never crossed his mind. Can’t having anyone thinking he actually has feelings. Shudder.
In no time at all he’s lost track of how long he’s been soaring. Long enough that he’s tired. Screw that. Fucking exhausted. Which means naptime. His second favorite activity. Well, maybe third by now. I’ll leave you to guess what the first is.
He drops from the sky, dark eyes peering below him. Without much grace (because that shit is hard so fuck that), he plops into the shallows of the river. He wades deeper, then, with a groan, settles himself into the rushing waters. The swift current soothes his warm skin, rippling against overused muscles. Damn. He thought he’d been fit but apparently flying takes a different kind of fit.
Stretching his wings wide, he lets the current bubble against his feathers. Fuck yeah, this is the life. Maybe not an ideal place to nap. But he’d find a nice patch of sunshine in a bit. Take a nap as he dries his feathers. Fucking perfect.
@[Megz]