sink me in the river at dawn
WHO: Nill [brevipennate] & anyone. More than one anyone is just peachy.
WHERE: A park somewhere, probably one near the church.
WHEN: During/after this post.
WARNINGS: N/A.
SUMMARY: Nill is moulting, but doesn't believe anyone who tells her so. So she's hiding instead.
FORMAT: Quickie, but whatever is fine.
[The only things Nill could think about were how her wings hurt and itched, and that she was sick and couldn't go to a doctor because doctors were never nice. Many people had told her that she was doing something called "moulting," but it had never happened to her. Besides that, she had never seen many birds, so she didn't know what moulting was in the first place.
So she was sitting beneath a tree, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. Her wings were pressed to her back, even though she didn't want them there, didn't want to feel them or even look at them. There was a small pile of feathers behind her, and every ten minutes or so another would be added to the heap.]
WHERE: A park somewhere, probably one near the church.
WHEN: During/after this post.
WARNINGS: N/A.
SUMMARY: Nill is moulting, but doesn't believe anyone who tells her so. So she's hiding instead.
FORMAT: Quickie, but whatever is fine.
[The only things Nill could think about were how her wings hurt and itched, and that she was sick and couldn't go to a doctor because doctors were never nice. Many people had told her that she was doing something called "moulting," but it had never happened to her. Besides that, she had never seen many birds, so she didn't know what moulting was in the first place.
So she was sitting beneath a tree, arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees. Her wings were pressed to her back, even though she didn't want them there, didn't want to feel them or even look at them. There was a small pile of feathers behind her, and every ten minutes or so another would be added to the heap.]