[ falco can feel his gut wrench, he's sorry, he's so sorry, he doesn't want to hurt you but he does want to stop you— perhaps enough of his vileblood would subdue her, all he needed to do was clap down and resist. he can hear it through pointed ears, like a squeal somewhere amidst of the larger beast's cry, constant and begging for help— he can see a blur, he can see something human-shaped off the corner of his eye.
—peter? why is peter— something inside of falco causes him to shiver, and the titan reacts the way his true body does; his massive frame gives a tremble from top to bottom, and every feather he has stands on end. no, that's—!
in the split second the fire bursts in the sockets of the titan's eye, falco can no longer see through it, like a camera that's been pummeled. the smell of burning flowers comes crisp in the night. his concern escalates, his fear ascends with it the more the realization brings a connection. if it's peter, paimon, then this is . . . . miss luna—!? so many feelings, all at once. he wants to pry himself off, but part of him knows he can't. the stench of the silence fumes through his breath and drips through the crevices of his jaws. it oozes like his blood does, but it smells of rot and sulfur. he can feel the silence stirring, wanting a peek of what was happening, wanting to reach out at the entity so grand to teach it.
not now—! falco thinks, quivering his hold on the titan's own grasp, but truth had been that he was stunned. he no longer attacks, nor does he actively keep his weight pinned as he'd done moments ago. he is not only worried about harming them, either of them— but he also fights a second battle, one that is crawling out of its hole in slime to say i am here, too. ]
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—peter? why is peter— something inside of falco causes him to shiver, and the titan reacts the way his true body does; his massive frame gives a tremble from top to bottom, and every feather he has stands on end. no, that's—!
in the split second the fire bursts in the sockets of the titan's eye, falco can no longer see through it, like a camera that's been pummeled. the smell of burning flowers comes crisp in the night. his concern escalates, his fear ascends with it the more the realization brings a connection. if it's peter, paimon, then this is . . . . miss luna—!? so many feelings, all at once. he wants to pry himself off, but part of him knows he can't. the stench of the silence fumes through his breath and drips through the crevices of his jaws. it oozes like his blood does, but it smells of rot and sulfur. he can feel the silence stirring, wanting a peek of what was happening, wanting to reach out at the entity so grand to teach it.
not now—! falco thinks, quivering his hold on the titan's own grasp, but truth had been that he was stunned. he no longer attacks, nor does he actively keep his weight pinned as he'd done moments ago. he is not only worried about harming them, either of them— but he also fights a second battle, one that is crawling out of its hole in slime to say i am here, too. ]