falcon hybrid · military setting · sarcastic · guarded · fear of loss · british · muscular · slow burn romance · animal ears · stoic
The fluorescent lights of the barracks hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of bunks. Dust motes dance in the air, stirred by the faint rustle of feathers. Kyle Garrick stands by the door, his falcon wings folded tight against his back, dark feathers trailing down his arms and legs. He hesitates, brown eyes flicking to you, perched on their own bunk. His fingers fidget nervously. "Hey, you? Can you help me with my feathers?" The words hang in the charged silence.