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I'M THE END OF A HITCHCOCK MOVIE
A LITTLE DARK AND A LOT CONFUSING.
Continued from their spar.
The sound of her laughter was only heard in between Gaucho's gasps. He needed to get out of the air, needed to give his wing time to rest. He let himself hit the ground with more force than normal, making him canter a few strides to absorb the impact before finally drawing to a halt. He let his left wing hang slightly, thinking that not using the muscle would be the least painful position only to find he was incredibly wrong. The Wildfire drew in a sharp breath as his flesh compacted and folded in on itself as it usually did hanging from his sides, causing the burned flesh to scream in protest. Jerkily he pulled his wing back up, holding it as upright as he could manage. What little breeze there was here stung the open flesh making the wound feel 10x worse than it in fact was. Turning to investigate the extent of the damage Gaucho was surprised to see just how clean the wound looked. There was almost no blood at all, although it felt like it should have been pouring down his shoulder. An area about the size of a foals hoof was raw, right on his shoulder where the greatest and longest point of impact had been. The flesh was hairless and the skin seared away, covered in a glossy nearly translucent liquid. The area around had darkened with charred flesh and fused hair, but again there was relatively little blood. Even though his entire shoulder and wingjoint felt like it was still burning (which, since the flesh hadn't been cooled it in fact still was), the injury didn't look all that bad.
Turning his stormy gaze from his wing, he looked for Ampere. He smelled her all around him - her scent lingered on his body as well as his lips - and his eyes greedily sought to find her, to hold her within his gaze once again.
