Do I? I've been called a tiger and a lion before - hardly a bird. Though if I had to guess, there's meaning in having wings, but choosing to be on the ground. I'd rather be here, than in the air.

[ it's something to think about, kaveh supposes. something about the irony of these stories playing with their natures. netzach isn't suited to be a vampire. not really. neither is midnight. neither is alhaitham, if he had to be honest about it. there is an inherent gentleness to them that the world has yet to stamp out in its entirety.

kaveh doesn't intend to be the one to do so. but he is only kaveh, and this is the story that's written - this is also the only ending that kaveh can accept. midnight tosses his coat over them. his hand cards through kaveh's hair. kaveh's wings flutter beneath netzach's touch. and then, slowly, kaveh stretches it, one of his golden wings. he stretches it above the three of them like a canopy. a shadow is cast. the halo of kaveh's existence is bright beneath it. the canopy of his wing drowns out the world; he builds a world for just the three of them within. it's just the three.

finally, lastly, kaveh tips his head. it's the gentlest of touch, the way it butts into the palm of midnight's hand, and then to the curve of his neck. kaveh lets himself rest there. he says: ]

Ah, but perhaps it's your influence, Midnight. I always knew you were a terrible one, for Netzach.

[ kaveh says so, and he is smiling. ]