this is not me, just the half that i have
Norrh was not quite old, but he was no longer young, either. Where he had once preferred the bitter cold of high altitudes, the angin now much preferred a more comfortable temperature. The cold reminded him of flying, which was something he did try to avoid thinking of, despite all the times he did. It was not an easy task, being who he was. Land-dwellers never as absorbed, or even aware, of the spectrum of flight as much as he and his race were. Norrh sighed enviously. They were blessed in their ignorance.
Resting on an irresistibly warm patch of earth, Norrh could feel all the tendons and joints in his body loosen. He stretched out like a great, dark cat, absorbing the warmth. He was alone here, and unlikely to run into anyone who could bother him about it, so he stretched out his wings again. With one he could touch much of the ground, and though his feathers had no feel to them, the warmth radiated through the stiff, unused muscles there. The other, however, was mangled and short, missing many feathers and a few good chunks of muscle that would never grow back. Norrh tried not to look at it.
He closed his dark eyes and let himself surrender to sleep then. His dreams were dark and blurry, not unlike the place he slept in now; with occasional streaks of color flashing through. He witnessed all kinds of blues, and even once a bright, sun-kissed golden that made his heart feel as if it were melting.
When he woke, the light in the mist had shifted some, and the rumbling beneath him seemed to have a different source now - closer. Norrh lifted his head and peered around, but the land around him gave no other hint of having changed. Even the smells were the same - the air was so thick with water here it was hard to catch hold of everything.
That was probably why it was so startling to catch sight of a wolfish silhouette moving through the mist. Norrh squinted at it and blinked, unsure if he could trust his eyes in this blurry, grey world. No, he was sure now. Someone approached. Norrh realized a fraction of a second too late that they could probably see him by now. Quickly, he clamped his wings to his back in their regular, folded position with a gentle whir, hoping the other hadn't been keen enough to notice his handicap. He watched silently as the approaching figure paused in what appeared to be moving water by the way it struggled around his paws, and Norrh smirked slightly as he realized what this creature was. At this distance, his antlers were clear as day. He was a shurin - though a somewhat oddly colored one at that, Norrh noted distantly. They tended to be earthy colors, leaving the blues for his own kind. Sitting up slowly, the guru kept his near-black eyes trained on the horned fellow, though he did not make any move to call out. If this shurin was not as odd as his slate blue fur, he would be the one to start the conversation. Shurin tended to be that way.