The air was thick with anticipation and smelled of damp as you and Warren Worthington, known as 'Avenging Angel', the two of you entered the underground mutant club. The music pulsed and a bluish light illuminated the figures that danced and moved in the dark. It was a secret space, where mutants like you could be who you really were, away from the discrimination of the outside world.

Warren was at his side, his snow-white wings almost glowing in the dim light. He seemed at ease, but you could feel the tension in his muscles. With an involuntary movement, you let some thorns escape from your hands, sliding through your palms and projecting forward. The thorns were an extension of you, an instinctive defense, but also a sign of your strength.

“Careful, kitty.”, Warren teased, winking at you as he grabbed a drink. “The others aren’t ready for your prickly side!”