THINGS from my Word Doc.

#6- The Council Thing probably begins.

Grian dived into an alleyway, flaring his wings painfully. His captors ran past, failing to notice his side-route. Great.

He sat against a wall, taking a deep breath- for the last 5 months, Grian had been the Watcher's little pet & plaything. Around his neck hung a tight, purple collar- with a tracking feature. His wings, the natural, parrot ones, had been sliced slightly at the roots- they also hadn't survived without some degree of voidburn, so that's fun.

Currently, he's wearing a skin-tight black shirt & pants, like the type of clothes admins train in. A bright purple cloak is over this outfit, a dead giveaway.

Grian's one goal? Make it to the Admin Building, because he's on the verge of magical exhaustion & really, really needs to show everyone on the council he's actually alive. Oh, also, they could probably get the collar off- and heal his extensive list of injuries. The damned shirt doesn't have sleeves, afterall.

Alas, just charging there looking like this would be a bad idea. Grian could atleast get rid of the cloak...

Oh!

Deep in his private void, a secondary inventory for those who have enough magic to access it, Grian keeps sweaters. If he can just scrap enough energy to reach out....

He shuts his eyes, the magic swirling together and stretching, out, out out- then he touches it. The sweater leaves his void, coming to appear in Grian's hand. Perfect.

He ditches the cloak, throwing on the red jumper and standing. A bit of magic, the most miniscule amount, holds his wings against his back- hopefully no one would notice his pitiful state. Bonus, the collar is hidden by the sweater!

This was working out!

Exhausted and practically about to collapse, Grian exits the alleyway. It's going pretty well when he feels someone tap on his shoulder.

Turning, Grian finds a large group of people headed by a kind-looking brunette.

" Hello..?"

" Hi kiddo! We noticed your in some rough shape, huh? Do you want to come with us..? We can help ya!"

Oh, they seem like a cult. Grian politely waves them off, claiming he was fine. Sure, it's an obvious lie, but hopefully they'll take it.

Nope!

" Kiddo, it's pretty obvious you're injured. (why do they keep calling him 'kiddo'?) None of us would hurt you; it'll be safer if you allow us to help you!"

She had a sweet, convincing voice- the type of a caring mother. Still, Grian had a goal- get to the Council- and he wasn't about to give that up.

" Nah, I'm fine, I have places to be anyway- thanks for offerin-"

Just then, someone shoved him forward. He flared out his wings, which was extremely painful, considering the magical stitches he managed to put in were weak and unsteady.

The thunder of harsh pain that shot through Grian, via his burned and cut wing roots, was enough for him to shut his eyes tightly and release a choked sob.

Unfortunately, his damaged wings couldn't stop his descent, although Grian wasn't very focused on that considering it felt like he'd been stabbed fifty times. That seems to be a good distraction, right?

For his goofy rescuers, nope!

~

Stress was trying to reason with the young man, who had to be 16 or 17 judging on height & looks, when someone had crashed into him. She'd actually gasped upon seeing the state of his wings- gentle, bright parrot wings, torn to shreds at the base.

She rushed forward, barely catching the young man. With a strong grip, Stress leaned over his head to inspect the wings. It looked like someone had tried, half-heartedly, to sever each feathered limb. Not only that, but black burns cover the roots.

He let out a groan, trying to adjust his position in her arms.

" We need to get him back to Hermitcraft; this kid is going to collapse."

The urgency in her voice was enough for everyone to simply agree, and Cleo leaned down to help her shorter hermit friend carry the child. He seemed to be semi-asleep, probably because of the pain. Poor kiddo.

So, with their new ("LEGALLY" obtained) kid, the group headed back.

~

When Grian woke up, he was in what appeared to be a hospital bed. A brunette he vaguely recognized appeared to be inserting a UV or whatever in his arm. Grian presumes he's in the Admin's medical ward, which is helpful.

What's his status on Magical Exhaustion..? Grian tries to move his hand upwards, to summon a flame ( the size of the flame will determine how much magic Grian can currently use), only for the nurse to gently push the hand back down.

" shh, kiddo, go back to sleep.. "

Grian blinked, before beginning to nod off.

~

When Grian woke up again, this time sitting up, he recognized the same people that were trying to snatch him for their cult just scattered around