Killing Butterflies - Empires SMP

Five - Crumple

Xornoth didn't move from their position on the floor, blanket curled around them. Instead, they stayed in their mildly uncomfortable position, wings and back digging into the bed frame. The sun continued to shine through the windows, illuminating the room with the watery, pale winter sun that was eternally present in Rivendell, and it had moved enough that it now bathed them in sunlight.

It was warmer than they expected, especially when there was a ridiculous amount of snow outside, but they imagined that because Scott was rich and kingly he could probably afford the fancy new electric heating that every castle and palace in existence had in about every single room, regardless of whether or not they actually needed it. The Crystal Cliffs, they could understand, but Mezalea? Why did Mezalea even need heaters? Maybe they had so much money that they didn't know what to do with it.

They flicked their ear in agitation, trying to catch the sounds of the outside. It was surprisingly difficult - the glass muffled the world outside like they were trying to hear through a wall. It was probably just because it was thick to keep the heat in, but they couldn't rule out the possibility of a spell and a part of them twisted in the desire to kill the wizard.

What would her brothers think if they came back to her dead, a trident impaled through her skull and keeping it pinned to the floor? It would probably make them furiously angry at them, but it would be so satisfying to see blood pool out of her face and spill all over the ground.

They shifted and accidentally jolted the stab wounds on their chest and gritted their teeth, closing their eyes and trying to breathe through the worst of the pain. If only there wasn't any magic on them and they could steal a knife from Scott's kitchen and prise his tongue and teeth out of his mouth, then leave him to drown in his own blood as they ran away, then their life would be so much easier.

They imagined coppery red sliding out of his throat as his eyes darted around frantically, and then they internally made the image ten times worse as the anger from earlier bubbled up a little higher. How dare he think he had a right to know anything about them. Maybe they would tear his cheeks open as well, leave him permanently mutilated even if he did manage to live. That sounded fun.

Xornoth huffed and moved again, unable to stay in one spot. Their wings were starting to ache from being pressed into the same position for so long, and they longed to be able to spread their wings just an inch. They'd kill for it if they could kill.

Currently, they felt crumpled and cramped like they hadn't even been folded properly and it was by a miracle that they hadn't broken or dislocated. They didn't know much about wing binding, but they did know that if they really did have to stay here for a long period of time that they would definitely crack somewhere, something they really would not look forward to.

They stared at the floor.

The floor stared back at them.

They supposed that they were bored, in one corner of their brain, but they couldn't really bring themselves to move or pick up one of the dry looking books on the shelf. All they could really focus on was the bruising feeling in their wings and how sore they were, how the bindings were too tight. They could have ideally been doing something else, like reading or even pacing if it came to it, but they simply remained hunched in a little huddle on the floor.

It wasn't exactly the best position to be in, if anything it made them seem like they were sad as opposed to how they actually felt (angry, a simmering fury spreading and tingling across every hair and patch of skin) and if Scott were to come in right now he would probably laugh at them, but they really didn't see the point in moving. Plus, crouching like this with the blanket over their shoulders was a position where they didn't have to be reminded of their painfully exposed skin, and they could try to ignore the crawling sensation that scuttled along their barely covered arms every few seconds.