He'd figured a flight would ease his mind, at least... slightly. The wind in his hair, the sense of weightlessness as he tumbled through the air before his wings would catch him and he'd be soaring back towards the sky. Muscles flexed, bunched and coiled as he pushed against gravity again and again. Spirals and tumbles, dives and glides.
The fire between his horns left trails of sparks in his wake, more snaps and flares sparking off his exposed dark skin and golden tattoos. He felt relieved to be back in his own skin. Horns. Wings. Even the glow of his eyes was a comfort when he'd look into a mirror now. Far more comforting than those... dreams? Memories. The balrog grit his teeth against the images in his head of a castle and people he'd never seen. He'd been... perhaps most troubled by the gold Great Knight, though he could not place the sensation in his waking hours.
Catching himself in the air again, his great wings thrashed in the air as he lowered himself down to the ground not terribly far from the lake where he'd left his shirt and half his senses, he felt like. Ripping the cloth from a high branch as he neared the ground, Neithan was huffing and puffing in the late evening air. Some distant part of his brain scolded him for the exercise--it was going to be an immense pain to wake up for classes in the morning. Bare feet hitting the soil, he began to search for his boots he'd been sure he'd left on the branch with his shirt, yet was unable to find up there. Had they fallen? Grunting, he held up a hand palm up and summoned a simple fireball to try and light his way. "Bloody... teach me tae leave m'things 'round then..."
[Mistress Morbid]
IDK HERE'S A STARTER