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[@Silvan Haven], [@HereComesTheSnow], [@Crimmy]

I shifted in my seat as the scent of Gratia’s peaked interest in something was aroused. I glanced up, straining and holding my side, which was a favourite of Vittoria’s, what she saw however was an antenna. But, it wasn’t steel. No, rather, it was made of hair. How peculiar. It seemed to just barely twitch. 

[color=9D36FF]“Oh my.”[/color]

Bianca said silently under her breath. No wonder Gratia was so impressed. With such a specimen how could you not be? Perhaps it functioned somewhat similarly to my wings.

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[color=9D36FF]“Hi Luke.”[/color]

He can’t see me from where he is, his view is obscured by Gratia and Beryl. Though I can see him, just his face however. Probably for the best.

If he saw me like this that would be embarrassing. Although, I suppose this is the rest of my life. This constant visage of tiredness, my broken wings, disappointingly slim figure. It’s what I’ve been dealt. Gratia would tell me to play that hand. But it makes you think it might be worth folding.

[color=9D36FF]“I heard your mission was rather difficult. Hopefully everyone made it out okay?”[/color]

They must’ve truly been out of my league. Word on the street is that they fought a Grimm so huge that it took all eight of them to kill it. Yet here I was, a single feathered bird who had been run through the streets of Mistral after fighting just one family. At what point does a hunter stop being a hunter?

At which point are they hunted?

These are my new questions.

Fuck. This had to change.