— I'll break you a hundred different ways —
He was a particularly mild creature, despite the thoughts that often crossed his mind; dark tendrils that weaved tangled webs, twisted and sadistic, though he rarely acted on such whims. Opportunity didn’t often present itself, especially when one secludes themself in the wilderness, although he didn’t pass on it whenever it did.
He didn’t see her as an opportunity, though. He was only intrigued. Besides, she was clearly different than his usual targets. She wasn’t meek and quiet, and he preferred things that didn’t fight back, which ruled her out. Trying to overpower a girl that possessed a puppet of bones as a pet didn’t seem wise. She appealed to him in an entirely different way than what he was accustomed to, and he tilts his head downward to regard her creation as she sends it forward.
”Should I be afraid?” He questions her, a somewhat amused look on his sterling face, not stepping away even as a bone nearly touches his leg. ”Skeletons and bones, they’re hardly monsters.” Perhaps the pilot was the monster, he thinks, the muted darkness of his eyes still watching her. ”But yes, I was born here. Not much surprises me anymore.”
He shifts his wings, the coolness of autumn rustling through the pale feathers, and he finally asks of her, ”What else can you control? Besides your….friend.”
— and I'll make you remember my face —
