“Compassion?” Mortis said, his lips twitching. The warmth of the aromatic alcohol was already sinking into his bones. He relaxed a little further into the furs with a soft sigh. He had more padding to lean on, now that Halo had added to the pile. His wings stretched out on either side of him, brushing into this or the other every time he moved. Though his movements were slow and careful, his wingtips soft, and nothing broke.
“I think sometimes Sirius sees that more as a fault than a strength. That’s why my time as Heir didn’t work out.” It was true that he and his father had more differences than things in common. So perhaps it was strange that he longed so much to be home when he was gone. “What are the things you love, Halo?” He prompted gently.
Marauder
