avian mistake (tomtord)

Life with Meaning

Face down in light yellow bed, Tord had no idea how he had gotten there. He felt his wings cover him like a thick blanket. Too hot. He got up and shook off what seemes to be sweat like a dog.

His wings were damp, so this wasn't sweat. Whatever he did yesterday must have included wings and water, which was not a good mix.

He recognized the room he was in was the one Tom put him after the collision with a tree. He slid out the door with his wings dragging behind him, collecting dirt.

He opened a randomly chosen door, which to his luck was the bathroom. Leaving the lights off, he stretched out his wing infront of the mirror and saw tiny brown specs all over them. Dirt. Grime.

Great. Time for a bird bath.

He curled a wing infront of him and began picking out dirt. Through all the layers of feathers, there was more dirt. This would take very long to do.

He began picking and pulling small specks of dirt out. Some were easy to pull out and some were totally stubbourn.

He just wanted to sleep. So tired.

He felt the dark room become more crowded, like someone lightly pressed against him. This unknown entity began delicately pulling out dirt from behind.

Unknown entity could also be known as Tom. The room was so silent, Toms soft breathing could be heard clearly. Tord relaxed against Tom, it felt nice to have someone else kindly touching his wings. Satisfying, tingly sensation.

Unknown emotions.

It felt nice.

The third person point of view of Tom

Before Tom could know, Tord was sound asleep, leaning against him. Tom kept picking dirt from his soft wings.

It took a while to single handily pick out all dirt while trying to balence Tord without waking him up, but after 45 minutes or so, Tords wings were like new.

Being an intern at the laboratory where Tord was studied at, Tom knew there was one place on Tords back where his wings could be controlled by one other than him. Tom could automatically have his wings put back without Tord.

Tom gently pushed Tord off himself, nervously pushed his shirt up. A nerve-racking situation appeared in Toms head.

What if Tord woke up while I manually had pulled his shirt up?

Tom pushed the thought out of his mind. He proceeded to locate the tatooed star on Tords back. He found it, and lightly pressed his two finger on it. Tords wings folded and compacted into the storage packs.

Tom quickly pulled Tords shirt back down.

Tom, as quickly and as quietly as possible, dragged Tord back to Toms room. Tom gave it to Tord out of generosity. He figured Tord was going to be staying a while, so he should be living like a king. Tord's been through so much. 

Hes been kicked, slapped, beaten to death. 

Hes had needles upon needles stuck in him from every possible place.

Hes been poked and prodded inhumanley.

He was not even treated like a human.

So Tom thought he could atleast make Tord feel like was.