Reyson x Oliver TanasEdit
Reyson paced around the small, yet beautifully decorated, room. The young heron prince had found himself in the possession of the greedy, portly, Duke Oliver Tanas. "The nerve of that damned blackbird," Reyson said sharply through his gritted teeth. "Selling me off to tha-that... "man"... as if I were some sort of painting or.... sculpture! I will never forgive that bastard for what he has done! NEVER!"
Reyson's wings jetted out from his back at the peak of his anger. The radiant, white appendages crashed into various paintings hanging on the wall, and knocked several pieces of pottery off their perch. Reyson retracted his wings slightly from the pain it caused him. His delicate wings appeared as if they could be broken clean in half by the slightest touch he wrapped the wings around his body, examining them both closely. As far as he could tell, he had not been visibly injured, though they still ached. As he felt his wings for any cuts, he could here footsteps thundering up the keep stairs and, presumably, towards the room. Though he hadn't been gifted with Ulki's ears, even a deaf beorc could hear the piercing howl that accompanied these footsteps. "NO! PLEASE! TELL ME HE'S ALRIGHT!" In mere moments, the plump senator busted through the door, knocking it clean off the frame. There stood the greedy art collector, Oliver Tanas.
"Oh thank Ashera!" he exclaimed, as he made towards Reyson. "I had thought, perhaps, you had fallen, as you had descended from heaven! Luckily, that is not that case."
Reyson stood puzzled. All around him lay the remains of a picture from, and to his right, shattered pottery. But his captor had not even given them the slightest though. he focused solely on Reyson. "... Yes. I am fine," Reyson said trying to maneuver around him and towards the open door.
"Yes, that is wonderful news! For me and for you, my pretty!" Oliver said with an ecstatic tone. He, also, started shuffling towards the door, perhaps trying to block the prince's escape route.
Reyson had stopped. He looked at the round collector with rage. "Why in the world am I so special to you, devil!? Calling yourself one of the god's chosen people, yet keeping a living being captive! Buying me as if I were some work of art? Why don't you decapitate me and mount my head on your wa-"
"DON'T SPEAK SUCH NONSENSE!" Oliver yelled with a fury that shook Reyson to the core.
"Wha-... What nonsense would that be?"
"Saying that I would separate that beautiful head from your perfect form, of course!" Oliver walked towards Reyson with his hand outstretched. Reyson flinched, afraid of the inevitable chill that would emanate from the pig's palms... Oliver placed his hand on the top of Reyson's head... and something strange happened. Reyson did not feel a piercing cold. He felt... warm. "Without this, how could I call you the greatest of all of Ashera's creations?" Oliver leaned into Reyson's perfectly sculpted face, as a tingling sensation ran through his spine... and his groin.
Reyson leaned in as well. Was it the heat of the moment? Maybe a slight breeze? The force of Oliver's palm on his delicate skull? No matter what the cause, their lips met with a fiery passion that had never been felt before.