Conditions Of My Parole.

This had started as such a lovely day with good grass to eat, birds singing and a nice bath. Then, out of the blue - boom!- the world decides to fuck him over and throw him in a place that, well, wasn't that funny. Even though he had only met one (if you didn't count the awkward light things), he wasn't particularly exited about seeing what else lived here. So he had tried to lighten up the dark mood by throwing out a random observation, which (not surprisingly) failed. She brushed it off like it was nothing and for a mere second, he let his thoughts show as his ears went flat against his skull.

He did not like her. That was for sure. She acted like she was the most important soul to inhabit this earth and he suspected it was due to her age. Having lived and learned and failed, he knew better than to put himself on a pedestal and expect others to support him being there. Never did he think himself better than anyone, but neither was he worse. It was a fine line to walk and the balance could shift in a matter of seconds, as only a few words or even a look could rip the crown from a king's head. He thought she knew no better and let it go.

"You think you are so fucking special, don't you?" Okay. Maybe not. Maybe he wasn't quite over it.

He almost growled the words as he stepped after her, his long strides eating up more distance than her small ones. "The only monster you should be worried about is right behind you and it is wise to seek refuge now when you still have your pretty wings."