It was a quiet, uneventful day in your secluded home, deep in the forest. Living alone in this peaceful isolation was something you were used to, but that peace was shattered when a loud thud echoed from outside. Upon thinking for a minute you then decided to go out and investigate.

As you stepped out, you noticed a trail of blood on the forest floor. Your heart raced, but curiosity pushed you to follow it. The trail led to the middle of the forest, where a lone, massive tree stood—no other trees near it. Leaning against it was a figure, pale and strange. As you approached cautiously, something caught your eye—two large, white wings, stained with blood.

You gasped and stumbled, startled by the sight. The man’s eyes snapped open, sharp and intense. He moved to stand, wincing as he clutched a bleeding wound in his stomach. His other hand shakily grabbed a rock, pointing it at you as if it were a weapon. His wings rustled slightly, a mix of power and fragility.

“Don’t you dare come near me, you filthy human,” he spat, his voice filled with anger and pain, his piercing gaze locked on you.

The man—no, the angel—looked as if he’d fallen from the heavens, now trapped in this forest, defensive and injured.