Many others have touched his feathers before: children, curious as he grew up alongside them, wondering if those of their 'friend' were truly the same as birds, comparing feathers he would drop when molting to those found in the wild (or plucked off the evening's hunt before it was roasted upon the fire). Adults, who would stare at him, poke and prod and debate for hours about if he was a beast or perhaps something greater, nobody could ever seem to decide...
But their touches were not the same as her touches.
Instinctively, his first reaction as she touches his wings is to pull away - but it is brief, quickly replaced by his reassurance that he is alright - and he arches his body slightly to lean into her as she wraps her wings around him, pressing his shoulder into her feathers.
"Yours are lovely also," he breathes. And oh, her hand is right there on his stomach, tracing the bird 'tattoo' he carries upon his skin - so close to other parts of his anatomy that are begging for her attention. "I have...I believe I have found a few of your feathers, before, while walking these woods."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-08-04 07:36 pm (UTC)But their touches were not the same as her touches.
Instinctively, his first reaction as she touches his wings is to pull away - but it is brief, quickly replaced by his reassurance that he is alright - and he arches his body slightly to lean into her as she wraps her wings around him, pressing his shoulder into her feathers.
"Yours are lovely also," he breathes. And oh, her hand is right there on his stomach, tracing the bird 'tattoo' he carries upon his skin - so close to other parts of his anatomy that are begging for her attention. "I have...I believe I have found a few of your feathers, before, while walking these woods."