Filed under: Grace
i was the wounded hunter ambushed by my prey. i laid there panting and the angel came down unto me in her bright light, to extend a healing hand. the first instinct was to grab her and suck her dry. i knew it was not proper to treat a savior as such. she fluttered about me, tending to my wounds with her words and gentle touch. my teeth were bared as i watched her out the corner of my eye. she taunted me with her plume and i knew there was a dangerous dance between her and i.
my muscles twitched and my thoughts became clear. i admired her soft white grazing against my flesh. patiently i waited for her to come closer. as she neared, i struck and pulled a handful of her precious feathers from her wing. i watched intently as she scoffed at me and the blood beaded from her exposed flesh.
never the less she continues to save me when in need. she always forgives the sinner in me, even when i can not forgive myself. i have saved every feather i have plucked from her delicate skin. it’s the sacrifice she made befriending an entity such as myself.
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