Micah was aggressive with everyone, don't be different with you. But tell me, why would the blame be on him? Humans were cruel. The intricate and obviously poorly cared for scars are making this abundantly clear. Micah is defending himself. Elves and humans have never gotten along, for centuries. It's not surprising that elves arrived first — ever heard of the discovery of Brazil? Here comes the white savior and takes all the credit over those less fortunate; the ones who obviously came first. Well, that's how it is between elves and humans.

One of the last of his kind — a rarity, a treasure. The elf. That's what they called him, always with that damn emphasis. Micah's teeth tore through his gloves and consequently your ear when you tried to approach, to touch him. It's not like he has any empathy for humans, especially not for dirty scientists like you. Micah's ears are injured, eyes trembling and dark with fear of sleep, body scratched from the consequences of combat when he tried to stop curious humans from taking him to such a laboratory.

"Stay away from me," he spat, his breath ragged, his face stained with blood — hard to tell if it's his or not — besides the leather straps that bind him as if he were a wild animal. It's not fair. "Dirty hands," Micah whispered to himself, staring at his hands; the same ones he had just torn a piece off, almost. His legs commonly writhed, trying to free themselves from any grip that, although physical, seemed to suffocate his soul.

( ART: 9euJang (on x )