Thread:YingHe/@comment-36159587-20190414210131/@comment-36159587-20190415235828

(Writing a small spurt of a POV for no reason)

-O-

The boisterous rapping sound at the edge of the already-battered window was making Galaxian’s bones quake. At least, what he thought were his bones. Heaving a humongous sigh, he leapt over the creaking wooden planks and flung the window open, only to prevent the house from breaking apart after the window.

The falcon nearly flew into his face, diving away half a millisecond just before he sent both bird and deity crashing to the floor; Galaxian was ninety-eight-point-nine-eight percent sure Hayato had done that on purpose. It also happened to be these “sometimes” where Galaxian completely forgot the falcon had been the one to land on his shoulder, and not vice versa. Alright, if he had landed on the falcon’s shoulder—did falcons have shoulders, anyhow?—he would have no problem with having to deal with this. As a matter of fact, though, he only had to deal with this particularly whenever he sent Hayato to deliver a message.

For instance, at the current moment, the falcon was preening his feathers while shooting Galaxian a two-second reminder that he was not a messenger bird. The young deity was very glad that the bird seemed to be taking it out on him.

Because that meant the bird hadn’t taken it out on Kenshin and Rune, or so he hoped.

Ignoring the dirty looks he was getting from the gold eyes, he went back to moping in the corner—or he should say, mopping in the corner.

(TBC? Maybe?)