Flying Without Wings (Closed RP) Yukimura, Kuronue
(Continued from here.)
Hanging off Yukimura's shoulder, one of his wings hanging like a limp and dead thing, dragging a long trail of blood behind him, Kuronue kept his eyes on the stone floor and tried not to throw up. He wasn't sure why he wanted to do so, since he was used to blood, even his own blood. Maybe it was the stress of how close to genuine pain Yukimura had come. He understood it hadn't been his lover's fault, truly, but still it rattled around in his mind.
"We'll talk about it later," he hissed, more in pain than anything else. No matter how he stood his back hurt like hell and he really didn't want to move his wing, but letting it drag on the floor was something his pride wouldn't allow.The things were normally sensitive anyway, but this? This encompassed any sensation they'd given him before. He was afraid to look back and see how much of his wing was left, or to estimate if he'd be able to fly again.
Maybe that was what was making him sick. The loss of freedom, the loss of the sky and wind currents.
He whimpered a little at the thought.
Hanging off Yukimura's shoulder, one of his wings hanging like a limp and dead thing, dragging a long trail of blood behind him, Kuronue kept his eyes on the stone floor and tried not to throw up. He wasn't sure why he wanted to do so, since he was used to blood, even his own blood. Maybe it was the stress of how close to genuine pain Yukimura had come. He understood it hadn't been his lover's fault, truly, but still it rattled around in his mind.
"We'll talk about it later," he hissed, more in pain than anything else. No matter how he stood his back hurt like hell and he really didn't want to move his wing, but letting it drag on the floor was something his pride wouldn't allow.The things were normally sensitive anyway, but this? This encompassed any sensation they'd given him before. He was afraid to look back and see how much of his wing was left, or to estimate if he'd be able to fly again.
Maybe that was what was making him sick. The loss of freedom, the loss of the sky and wind currents.
He whimpered a little at the thought.