#// mod: im on a semi hiatus so i can revise for my exams i say

[sunday-halovian]

Maintain Yourself

The child sat on the end of the sofa as his wings were pulled around behind him, crying at every movement. He couldn't be more than ten years old. It hurt it hurt it hurt, couldn't that man tell? Or was this some sort of punishment for letting such a thing happen? "Sunday, do you mind explaining what happened? You're always so careful."

He was the only halovian in his class, of course his classmates would want a look at his wings. If he let them indulge in that one thing, perhaps they'd stop with everything. Laughing at him whenever he'd refuse to go into the field, scared to get branches caught on anything. Yelling at him for ruining the lesson whenever he desperately tried not to do anything wrong, not to spill anything during the lab practicals and panicking if he did. Getting annoyed whenever he'd cry about them ruffling his hair or feathers or uniform. Robin had plenty of friends in her class, Sunday just wanted something similar. That wasn't unreasonable for a child to want, right? To be treated normally.

"That's not too hard a situation for you to control, now, is it?"

It wouldn't have been if they were only looking at his wings like they'd promised. But one of them almost immediately grabbed his wing and started playing with his feathers. It wasn't something he could talk his way out of and if he tried to push any of them away he'd get in trouble for starting a fight. They just got a little too investigative, a little too boisterous, as children were prone to, and he'd gotten hurt as a result. Realistically, Sunday should have seen it coming. That's just what they were like. That's what children were like. He wasn't any different, ultimately. If he'd never seen something before, he'd want to learn about it too. It's just a child's instinct. It was his fault anything has gone wrong.

"How are you supposed to protect Robin if you can't even take care of yourself? You're her older brother, you have a duty."

"I'm sorry Mr. Gopher Wood."

"This isn't something you apologise about, it's something you do right next time."

"Yes, Mr. Gopher Wood." His voice was barely above a whisper. It was all he could muster without crying while Gopher Wood manipulated his wings. Was all this really needed to check what had happened? Surely the excruciating pain of trying to move them himself was enough to prove something had been broken.

He could feel feathers being plucked, causing a seating pain to shoot through his body. They were right where his wings were injured and would get infected if left but surely there was some way of numbing the area. Normally, it would only feel like a short, sharp pinch, but today you may as well have drawn a knife from Sunday's body.

He wanted to run away, to curl up and hide with Robin and cry without judgement. But he couldn't. Gopher Wood was trying to help and so he would be forced to sit still until the man was done. No one could disobey the Head of The Oak Family.

The injury never actually healed and with each passing day, Sunday grew more and more suspicious on why Gopher Wood insisted on moving his wings around like that for so many weeks if not to monitor the injuries.

It became a well known fact that Sunday was the only halovian in all of Penacony to have never once shown his wings publicly. Though people speculated, it was rather simple, actually. They were a mess. Pristine only if you'd never seen a halovian's wings before. Mismatched, feathers unkempt and unable to be, out of order, unable to properly move, only flutter a little. And still painful.

The halovian woke with a start. He was still in his bed, but he could feel his body shaking and tears dripping down his cheeks. He sat up, running his hands over his cheeks to dry them. Who knows how long he sat there, fingers weaving through his feathers and instinctively snatching any out of place.