Sev. I'm here to bring you a thought on Sara that's been plaguing my mind recently. I condensed it, so sorry for the jumps.
Imagine Sara injuring one of her wings while in a battle. She returns home battered and bruised, but there's no life-threatening injuries on her. Still, you're worried sick when you see her limping into your home, exhausted beyond belief. What catches your attention is the fact her wings are out, and one of them is sticking out in a peculiar way.
You're immediately fretting over her, gently taking her less injured arm and leading her to your guy's bedroom. You have her sit on the bed, tell her to take her shirt off (which she does with a flushed face) before you go and fetch medical supplies. After that, you sit on the bed with her back to you, your hands gentle as you caress injured wing.
It was a luxury that you, her lover, were allowed to touch her wings or even see them as often as you did. It showed the trust that Sara had for you, the love she held as well. She winced as you patched her up, but she was so grateful to have you, someone she trusted and cared for so deeply that she'd never be able to formulate into words. Once finished, you helped her lay down with her wings laid across the bed in a way that would help the one heal.
Cuddle her and hold her head against your chest, just gently scratching her head while caressing the injured wing in a way that was so gentle it caused no pain. Just hold her and let her rest, helping the exhaustion and pain from battle melt away. She's protected, and she's loved in this moment, feelings she only ever feels with you.
ragsggssghshs caring for the caregiver… protecting the protector… what if i wept and sobbed. her wings are a vulnerable thing to her; yes they give her strength beyond normal humans, but they’re also incredibly fragile. targeting her wings is an easy way to make her flinch—as she learned young. but when you touch them you’re always nothing but gentle, reverent almost as you trace the spines of her primaries and her secondaries and the hollow main bones sprouting from between her shoulder blades. she shivers as you apply salve and ointment, and you kiss her nape in apology. (that’s new too—apologies. she’s used to acceptance). despite the throb in her wing she sleeps well that night, soothed and cared for in your arms 😔 my lovely bird i miss her
