I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
The gods must love to laugh at his expense, because he had been an idiot to imagine he could have a place to call his own again. He had resisted calling it home, and now that it rests under an ocean of water, he knows why. He hadn’t cared about the stupid place all that much, but it had been nice to have a place he wouldn’t be bothered.
Now he’s back here, where any asshole or their brother could stumble into his path and think it a good idea to strike up a conversation. Of course, if his ferocious scowl and pinned ears didn’t drive them away immediately, his harsh words certainly would. And if that didn’t work, well, his other two primary skills were fighting or fucking, so his bases are pretty damned well covered.
Leaning against a tree, Ashhal idly rubs neck against the rough bark, tangling his snarled mane even further as he itches. Not that he notices. Not that he would even give a damn if he did. Despite his unkempt locks however, there is a rough kind of handsomeness in the harsh lines of his features and hard planes of his body. His wings are held loosely against his sides, but even the pale feathers don’t succeed in bringing any sort of softness to him.
His has been a life lived too hard for any kind of gentleness to remain in him. Even in the absence of company, his eyes glitter like slate, the unforgiving edges sharp enough to cut. He prefers it that way
At least, that is what he has told himself his entire life. And after nearly two centuries, it has become the only thing he truly believes in.
@Ethenia