choso was a sinner. and his god wasn't stupid - he knew that he couldn't hold his crimes in secrecy for long. hence why when he was finally released from the shackles of being an angel and banished from heaven, he wasn't very surprised. as he fell from utopia, he knew his punishment was coming. an eternal punishment, burning alive until his soul was purified...

but that didn't happen. instead, choso was laying on... was that... snow? choso tried to recall his knowledge of the human world, of earth, and yes, this had to be snow. the surface was soft, and almost fluffy in a way. like a cloud. like his previous home.

though it was tainted red. choso's eyes trailed up his limp body as despite using all the strength in him, he couldn't move. his eyes lingered on the hole in his chest, which was bleeding rapidly - but he had bigger problems.

his wings were black. and from what he could make out from having his bangs in his face, so was his hair. a physical embodiment of his sin, he supposed. the small wings protruding from his ears twitched, but that was all the movement his body allowed.

he accepted his fate. choso knew he wasn't going to die - sinners were cursed with immortality. so he was going to lay there in the snow until a hunter found him, stripped him of his feathers and leave him - or hopefully kill him.

that is, until he actually heard someone approaching. a faint rustle of bushes and snow made him tense up. "stay back." he warned weakly to whatever creature was around, fangs bared, but he was far from menacing. after all, what was an injured, mostly nude fallen angel that's bleeding out meant to do?