On his knees, under a sparse tree, soaked with the September rain. The air was heavy with the meeting point of Summer and Fall, and it clung to his skin, gave him goosebumps. In his hand was a magpie. A mess of distorted feathers, Moon held it clumsily as it twisted and turned violently in his grip, shrieking an ear-piercing call. Its wing was bent an unnatural way, splinters of bone poking through the skin at the base of the feathers where his fingers sat, oily and gripping.
He needed to fix it. But the magpie's screams echoed off the branches above them, bounced off the ground and echoed through him 'till he became a mirror of the bird, a trembling, fragile thing. Frantic. Around him, the ground fell through. The air became thick and wet, the sun burned the back of his neck, the grass gave way to sandy plains and fingers wrapped, tight and bruising, around his throat. He sucked in breaths, but they wouldn't come. They stopped short in his throat and his lungs collapsed in on themselves, and he could help it, he could help, if it'd just--
The magpie stilled. Its call died in its throat, and it turned to look Moon in the eye. There was a millisecond in which its black, beady eyes met his glassy, golden ones and it could have been a moment. Poetic and monumental, like in the books. If it weren't for what punctuated it; the almost audible snap of his collarbone and the crumble of his forearm, falling to pieces under the skin. His arm fell slack, and the bird slipped to the ground. It stood and watched, and it took the pain a moment to come, but when it did, distorted, tortured noises spilled from his agony-parted lips and his body set alight. Stupid of him to try help a lone magpie. Two for joy, but the other one was busy.
/human au bc i do what i want. also this is a Health Transfer discovery and the injuries will be transferred back once he figures out whats going on
He needed to fix it. But the magpie's screams echoed off the branches above them, bounced off the ground and echoed through him 'till he became a mirror of the bird, a trembling, fragile thing. Frantic. Around him, the ground fell through. The air became thick and wet, the sun burned the back of his neck, the grass gave way to sandy plains and fingers wrapped, tight and bruising, around his throat. He sucked in breaths, but they wouldn't come. They stopped short in his throat and his lungs collapsed in on themselves, and he could help it, he could help, if it'd just--
The magpie stilled. Its call died in its throat, and it turned to look Moon in the eye. There was a millisecond in which its black, beady eyes met his glassy, golden ones and it could have been a moment. Poetic and monumental, like in the books. If it weren't for what punctuated it; the almost audible snap of his collarbone and the crumble of his forearm, falling to pieces under the skin. His arm fell slack, and the bird slipped to the ground. It stood and watched, and it took the pain a moment to come, but when it did, distorted, tortured noises spilled from his agony-parted lips and his body set alight. Stupid of him to try help a lone magpie. Two for joy, but the other one was busy.
/human au bc i do what i want. also this is a Health Transfer discovery and the injuries will be transferred back once he figures out whats going on
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; height: auto; text-align: center; font-family: ; font-size: 9pt; color: COLOR; letter-spacing: -.5px;"][i][b]and die like a hero going home.[glow=black,2,300]