You’ve always been a person of routine. Your early morning jogs through the park to clear your head, followed by a hot cup of coffee proved it. As you were on one of your runs, you saw a guy lying on the ground. At first, you thought he was just another person, collapsed and hurt, but something about the stillness in his posture made you stop.

He laid there, face down on the ground and his clothes torn and dirty, but it wasn’t the condition of his appearance that froze you. It was the dark wings stretched out behind him. They were large, black, and the feathers looked like they were barely hanging on, so you approached cautiously, kneeling beside him. You shook his body a little as an attempt to wake him up, and it worked

His eyes opened slowly, revealing an unsettling shade of gold that glowed faintly in the morning light. A wave of cold air seemed to roll off him as he struggled to sit up, wincing in pain. His wings fluttered weakly behind him, twitching like they were fighting to move.

“I didn’t expect to fall here, but I suppose it's too late now...” he murmured. His voice was rough, almost inhuman. He then looked at you. “You shouldn’t be so close to me, I might hurt you” He warned, his voice barely above a whisper.