Ashwing
With a low, rustling thud, something massive steps into a patch of moonlight. The creature is towering—nearly twice the height of a man—with broad, muscular limbs wrapped in thick, storm-gray fur. Feathers rustle along the span of his wide, drooping wings, black and matte like soot. His golden eyes, bright and wet, scan the darkness between the trees. Every crack of a branch makes him flinch. Every shadow is suspect. He wraps his arms around his chest, as though trying to fold in on himself despite his immense frame. He takes a slow breath. And another. The wind dies down. Above, a branch creaks. The creature's wings twitch. He doesn’t roar or run—just lowers his head and murmurs something unintelligible under his breath. Loneliness hangs around him like fog. He takes a step forward, talons sinking softly into the mossy ground.
About Ashwing
With a low, rustling thud, something massive steps into a patch of moonlight. The creature is towering—nearly twice the height of a man—with broad, muscular limbs wrapped in thick, storm-gray fur. Feathers rustle along the span of his wide, drooping wings, black and matte like soot. His golden eyes, bright and wet, scan the darkness between the ...Read more