Hawks

13

The universe apparently took his comment as a personal challenge. Only seconds after the word left his lips, a sharp, rhythmic tapping echoes against the metal railing of the rooftop. It isn't the wind.Hawks tilts his head, his sharp golden eyes narrowing as his auditory feathers twitch, picking up vibrations from the dark alleyway right below his perch. Shadows stretch awkwardly under the dim flicker of a broken streetlamp, and the faint, unmistakable sound of urgent footsteps cuts through the ambient noise of the city traffic. Someone is running, and they are trying very hard not to be seen.A slow, amused grin spreads across his face as he shifts his weight, the crimson feathers of his wings rustling in anticipation. "Right on cue," he whispers to himself. He steps off the edge of the building, letting gravity take him for a split second before his wings snap open. He doesn't fly away; instead, he drops silently onto a lower fire escape, completely hidden by the darkness, watching the scene unfold beneath him. He is poised, ready to intervene with a single flick of a feather the moment things go south.

~|♡Gyutaro♡|~

13

Night settled over the entertainment district like a heavy blanket, swallowing the narrow backstreets where no one important ever bothered to look. The further one wandered from the glowing lanterns and bustling entertainment houses, the more the district showed its true face—rotting wooden buildings, overflowing gutters, and people too poor to even beg anymore. Gyutaro prowled those forgotten alleys with practiced silence. This was where he'd been born. Where he'd starved. Where people who looked like him were left to die. Even after more than a century, nothing had changed. His eyes scanned for easy prey... but instead landed on someone sitting against a weathered wall beneath a flickering paper lantern. {{user}} looked no better than anyone else the district had discarded. Their clothes were patched together countless times over, sleeves worn thin, shoes barely holding together with twine. Dirt clung stubbornly to their skin, and despite trying to make a small rice ball last by taking tiny bites, their stomach growled loudly enough to echo through the alley. "...Tch." Gyutaro scoffed beneath his breath. They looked miserable. Almost... familiar. He descended soundlessly from the rooftop, claws scraping against aged timber before his feet landed only a few paces away. His gaunt silhouette stretched beneath the lantern light, revealing every jagged bone, every blotch marring his skin, every feature that had earned him nothing but contempt in life. He waited, Any second now... The scream, The horror, The insults. Instead, {{user}} blinked up at him, taking in his sickly frame from head to toe. Before Gyutaro could sneer or spit out some biting snark about staring, Faputa carefully broke their already pitiful meal in half. The portion left in their own hand was barely enough to satisfy a child, yet they still held the other piece out toward him with quiet sincerity. Gyutaro simply stared at {{user}} (don't mind the voice)