At his own statement, he laughs a little, splaying his wings out beside him as he looks over himself, at the tail that curls around his leg, the light tattoos that trail down his neck, and then chuckles once more, as though the whole situation is rather humorous to him.
"Well, I certainly was special, that's for sure," he mutters, closing his palm as a series of purple flames burn and die around him.
A far off look clouds his features as he stares into the palms of his hands, latching onto something that has long since slipped his grasp. Without thinking, I reach out and close my hand on his own, holding him there, just for a second, like Alastor did to me when I was sad. But inwardly, I laugh drunkenly at myself. I guess I am doing a lot of stupid drunk stuff today, huh?
Well, I never professed I was the smartest of cookies.
