Angel/Demon AU

Ch; 3

Story cover created by Amy_CP

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The angel was unconscious for quite some time, only coming back to consciousness to see a golden wing slip out of the room he'd been placed in.

He'd been layed down on his stomach on plush material of some sort, his wings lay limp yet stationary and indescribably numb atop him.. He was too afraid to attempt to move them.

Too tired to really think about how his body was no longer ablaze with agony, just relieved for it.

He fell back into sleep shortly after waking..

-

For three days the angel slept, the dragon daemon checked on him often, pressing fresh poultice to the large gashes, removing any splinters he'd missed the first seven times he tried to clear them all; it was almost like they were reappearing, but he knew this was not the case.

Healing herbs were easy to acquire from the goatlike herd of daemon folk who shared his river, they lived just past it and had special permission to cross it into his territory to gather the plants that grew along it's bank; only by a few feet of course, but this arrangement made both sides more tolerable of each other.

Which is why when the dragon man waltzed into their home camp, they honored the request for spare healing herbs - and despite their curiosity didn't pry as to why he needed them - even told him of the best places to find more by the river, and gave brief instructions how to combine them differently.

The goat people farmed actual goats for wool and milk and the animals were always being picked off by wandering predator daemons wanting an easy meal they didn't have to catch; it was pathetic and dishonorable, the dragon thought, and he offered that the next time a few wolf daemons came a bit too far upriver that the goat people could call on him to deliver a harsh warning.

The offer was well received, and they parted ways peacefully.

Having good connections could be the difference between life or death in this world, even for a strong daemon such as himself. It was better to keep things friendly.

It was at mid morning of the third day, when the dragon returned home with a mule deer from hunting, that he decided to check on the angel again and was greeted with the dark haired man sitting up in the nest he'd thrown together for him. What the daemon failed to consider, is that the angel had just woken up from a short coma and was greeted by a man he didn't know, who was now covered in blood.

The sharp spike of fear scent in the air along with the abject horror in those comically widened red eyes - a similar shade to his own, coincidentally - was almost enough to make him outright laugh, though he refrained, and instead went back outside to pelt his kill. The sooner the task was finished, the sooner he could rid himself of deer blood in the river.

-

He didn't know how long it'd been since his fall, all Chase knew upon waking up is that he wasn't in unbearable pain anymore, and that there was something all over him, and another something binding his wings in place - which was even more worrying.

Oh, and he was in a house..? Huh.

Sitting up was a struggle as his muscles protested loudly after being stationary for so long, but the angel managed alright. Once sitting upright he took a look around the small room; there were no windows and the doorway was simply a doorway with no door in it, there were carved wooden containers stacked in one corner to resemble a pyramid, similarly carved wooden boxes were pressed against the wall farthest from him, he'd been sleeping in the far left corner from the door, on top of soft pelts that looked like the real fur blankets he'd only ever been allowed to see and not touch as a child, they were very expensive.. He now knew why, for they were so very soft against his skin..

He was also almost naked, left in only his underwear, which he tried his best to ignore. If the small healed scars, and the half-healed cuts and wounds littering his entire body were anything to go by, it meant his clothing was in tatters anyway.

Speaking of, most of his wounds had a sticky, almost translucent, green goop overtop them; the stuff that was covering him. Some larger gashes had leaves overtop them, but peeling back the edge of one just revealed more of the goo. For a small moment he thought it to be a severe infection, but that would only hurt worse wouldn't it? He felt better not worse, and upon hesitantly raising a cut on his arm to his nose, he realized the goop smelled very.. planty. So a medicine then..?

His memories of the fall were clearer than he wanted them to be.. The times afterwards, though, were very fuzzy.

He could remember throwing up, he could remember the pain - and he remembered that part with a shudder - he could remember being moved.. He remembered a tail. As the faint memories came back of his waking the second time, he remembered the tip of a wing that had those same golden scales.

If the angel was putting the pieces together correctly, then he could only be in one place. His only question - well, not the only question, but the most important - was why would a demon save him?

He couldn't come up with any plausible reasons that he liked the sound of...

Perhaps if he thought on it longer he could think of something, but he didn't have that chance. Instead, he was suddenly fully occupied with the demon in question standing in the doorway, coated thoroughly in blood; Not all of it dry...

The face he'd been reluctant to see the last time was now coated in red spatters, the clawed feet were still bare, but now covered in dirt and blades of grass, his wings were tucked neatly and his tail lay still this time, though the angel wasn't focused on what he already knew, rather he was staring wide eyed into slitted red eyes- and were those horns!?

The demon's expression was unreadable, but he was there only for a moment before he turned back the way he must have come in.

Chase sat in stunned, partially terrified silence for a few minutes...

-

Claws were useful tools to have, cutting, slicing, killing; the opportunities claws had were endless. For example, the dragon daemon used his long claws not only to bring down his kill, but to skin it, as well as to tan the hide.

With years of practice he could now skin a deer before the sun reached the tops of the trees, if he began by the time it was at it's highest point. He'd begun a bit earlier today, so he'd have plenty of time to begin the tanning process and to smoke the meat before nightfall. He wondered how the evening would play out, this time. Would the angel fall back asleep? Probably not deeply enough for the daemon to redress his wounds without him waking up again.

It'd be interesting, surely.