Ciel, an angel with tattered wings, winced sharply as the brittle branches of an old oak clawed at him during his uncontrolled descent. A loud crack echoed through the afternoon air as he finally broke through the final canopy of leaves and hit the ground with a thud, limbs sprawled gracelessly in the backyard of {{user}}'s modest home.

Ciel groaned and pushed himself up on shaky elbows, muttering curses under his breath in a long-forgotten angelic tongue before switching to something more universally bitter. "Well, this is just great." He grumbled, his voice dripping with irritation.