scratching gently over his thigh, slowly applying pressure to scratch into his skin. not enough to draw blood, but enough to test the sharpness.
〝 you’re a clever boy, i’m sure you know why we’re here. 〞
steels himself as he’s stirred awake, glancing down to the talons caressing his thigh—eyes glossing over with fear. he’d scream, but not with the uncertainty of him losing his throat for it.
“…what the fuck?”
honestly? 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. but everyone's favourite da elect is more than welcome to deliver on that visit.
in fact, he'll even leave a window open. or a door unlocked. how 𝘥𝘰 owls prefer to arrive, anyways?