SwordOfTheDarkOnes

Huffing, Maelon stomped his feet and hugged himself as he tried to get warm. Standing outside of a club usually was a good idea, if one was actually dressed for it. Or seemed to be immune to the night air. Which Maelon was neither. Once he got inside it would be better. All those bodies pressed against each other dancing and moving to the music. So packed and so warm. Now if only the line would move. Grumbling about selfish people who wouldn't leave, he wrapped his wings around himself, hoping the feathers would help.

