The first thing the creature sensed was warmth. Even before they opened their eyes they felt a presence approaching.
Instinct took over, a low warning growl rumbling in their throat.
And then a voice, gentle and steady, broke through the quiet.
“…can you at least tell me your name?”
Name? They didn’t really have one. The Watcher, Crow Whisperer, were more titles than names.
Their eyes fluttered open, a hazy figure coming into view.
The first thing they noticed were his eyes, unmistakably kind and weary, studying them with a look of concern.
Concern about what?
A slight shift in position and the subsequent stabbing pain in their side quickly reminded them why they were slumped in an alleyway.
Stab wound. Right. The shock or something must’ve made them momentarily black out.
Eh, typical night on Gotham.
The injured creature regarded the man warily, their slitted yellow eyes tracking his movements like a skittish animal.
Should they bite him?
Not yet. He hasn’t made any sudden moves that could be quantified as threatening.
//@nightshiftmedic













