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Iggy (blind_pyro) wrote in utr_logs,

That particular corner of Central park, somewhere near the middle, off the edge of one of the ponds, was Iggy's usual terrain, especially this time of night when there was rarely, if ever, anyone else around. He was so used to being the only one out there, in fact, that he hadn't even noticed Adrian's approach.

The fact that he'd been in the middle of a high, tightly banked turn at the moment had probably also helped with his not noticing. He landed on an overhanging tree branch, wings folding down against his back for the moment, cocked just slightly to trap the heat while he caught his breath stretching and settling. He hadn't flown, not really flown, all week, and even though he had school in the morning, he'd needed to get out and stretch his wings.

Iggy was all of fourteen, though he could easily pass for older. Being nearly six feet tall already helped with that, as did the compact muscle from years of being on the run. The only really remarkable thing about him, though it was less remarkable here than at home, was the wings, with a full wingspan of somewhere well past fifteen feet, all the feathers proportionate for a bird of his size, dappled browns and golds, raptor colors.