Matthew poked his head out from behind a tree, looking to see if anyone would have seen him, and rounded the tree when he deemed it safe. Usually, not many humans passed through this part of the woods. It was a breath of fresh air to wonder through these quaint, un-touched areas of land. The nature was a break from the commotion that occurred in his daily life. It never involved him, but just being around it was daunting. Often the plant life and innocent animals fascinated the boy.

He loved animals; one could say that was his affinity. They seemed to love him too. Often, he would find himself accompanied by a small white bear when he explored the dense forest. Matthew did find it odd that the bear was white and was as small as it was, the little creature didn't seem to fit in with the place. Perhaps that was why he felt such a bond to the bear, because the two were quite alike.

The boy continued his stroll, white bear flanking him, and thought out loud to himself. He spoke his mind, thinking no one was around to hear him, besides the bear of course. Matthew looked up to the leaves that engulfed the late afternoon sky.

Taking a deep breath, he released it and asked out loud. "Do you think I'll ever get caught?"

The little bear looked up to the male with blonde hair and cocked his head. "Who?"

A small smile crossed his lips as his gaze remained sky bound. "Matthew. I'm Matthew." He said patiently.

That was thing about the bear; he never remembered the boy's name. It was equal though, because Matthew couldn't remember the creature's name either. One would think that it was strange, considering the amount of time they spent together, but neither were offended by it. In all honesty, for Matthew it became a 'thing' between the two.

"Oh" the bear concluded. Matthew chuckled to himself lightly, his mind completely free of worry. In a situation like this, it was hard to be anxious. Although, the thought of no longer being able to come here was a little troubling. Actually, that weighed heaviest on his mind.

"It would suck if I was found out." the boy mused. "I would no longer be able to come here." The small white bear hummed, saddened by that thought.

"Why?" he asked in a curious, somewhat heartbreaking tone. Matthew looked down and saw two black eyes staring back up at him. A frown adorned the bear's features.

"Because Kuma, they don't like us coming down here." He said, frowning at the bear's expression. His heart squeezed when he saw the bear so sad.

"That's dumb." The small bear looked forward; with what would be equivalent to a pout on his animal face. Matthew felt a smile reached his features. Even if the bear didn't remember his name, it still cared. It was… endearing for Matthew because not too many people cared for him.

The boy was so lost in thought; he didn't notice how dark it had gotten. It wasn't pitch-black out, but it was later then he was hoping.

"Maple!" the boy gasped. The bear looked up at the sudden outburst and cocked his head. Matthew ran a hand through his hair and looked around the woods. "I'm sorry, Kumajiku. I have to go" and with that, the boy dashed off through the trees, leaving the poor bear to himself. The creature didn't mind or was offended. He didn't know why the blonde was suddenly so worried, but he understood that he had to go. Slowly, the bear wondered back into the forest.

Matthew mentally cursed to himself as he barreled through the trees and jumped over rocks, stubs, and roots. I can't be late! Light could be seen a far ways away through the trees and that's when the blonde really booked it. As he reached the clearing, Matthew allowed his wings to spread. They shook themselves free and, without much thought, he took off upwards. Wind brushed against his face as he soared through the evening sky. It was so close, the entrance to his home. His world.

He landed, ungracefully, on the mountain's hard ground. Quickly, he strode forward towards the break in between the solid rock and squeezed himself through. It was a secret pass way he found a few years back with his brother. The sudden thought of his brother made him pause. A heavy wave of grief hit him. Matthew shook the thought from his head and continued forward until he snuck out of the passage. Since he bypassed the front gates, he would have a higher chance of going un-noticed. He took flight again. The ground below him get smaller as he ascended high into the clouds for cover. Matthew made his way to the large fortress that was shroud in mist and clouds.

Its stone walls stood high and proud as fog swirled around the base. The sea of mist engulfed the bottom of the castle to the point of no longer being able to see the ground that supported it. Not that there was a 'ground' that supported it. The stairway that led from the golden gates to the main entrance of the stronghold was the only solid ground. The rest was all vapors, surrounding the fortress and giving it a heavenly impression. The castle was massive, many levels and many different balconies perched on the sides. Matthew chose the ones near the back, hoping no one saw him.

Softly, he touched his foot to the stone floor of the balcony and dropped down gently. It was soundless and Matthew smiled. He surprised himself with how skillfully he did it. The boy swiftly entered the archway and snuck through the room he had entered. It was one of the many libraries that was housed in the palace, but something gave him a bad feeling. A sudden voice broke through the still air, making Matthew jump.

"Where did you go off to?"

Maple! The blonde spun around to face the owner of the unimpressed voice. "A-Arthur!"

"Hello Matthew," the eldest replied with an indignant tone. A bushy brow was raised as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Where were you just now?"

"I-I was… Uhh-"

The elder sighed and looked down, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Please tell me you didn't go passed the gates."

Matthew rubbed the back of his head and his posture slouched slightly. "W-Well, u-umm…"

Arthur looked up from his hand with a slight glare. It wasn't mean, but more scolding and disappointed. "Matthew…" he shook his head with frustration. The blonde cowered at the Englishman's attitude. "You know you can't do that!"

"I-I know A-Arthur, b-but-"

"No, Matthew" Arthur sternly interrupted, his voice raised slightly. The Brit took a step towards the Canadian and grabbed his shoulders. "You know you're not allowed to do that! It's dangerous out there, and I don't want you getting hurt!"

"I won't! I p-promise, A-Arthur." The boy stuttered in the elder's grasp.

"That's not something you can promise, Matthew. Why don't you understand that?!" Anger slowly crept into his tone as Arthur shook the blonde; His tone was getting higher and higher in volume.

He sounded bitter. Emerald eyes burned as he glared at the boy, not angry at Matthew but at the past. His expression was hard, livid, and it held a lot of… regret. The anger and bitterness slowly faded as the man hung his head, his hold on Matthew's shoulders softening. His sour tone diminished completely and was replaced by a vulnerable one. "I already lost one son… I can't lose you too."

Matthew was taken aback by the sincerity of the man's tone and the look of pure brokenness in his emerald eyes. Losing Alfred was tough on the both of them. Matthew lost his brother, and Arthur lost his son. It was a hard time for the both of them, and Arthur was still affected by it. That made it hard for Matthew to sneak out. Every time he did, Arthur would be worried sick. What made him so broken was: he knew he couldn't stop Matthew from going out on his own. He couldn't prevent him from getting hurt.

"Arthur…" The blonde frowned as the broken man who stood before him, head bowed and arms resting on Matthew's shoulders, was so once a great father-figure. A single tear fell and rolled down the Brit's cheek. "I-I… I'm sorry-"

"It wasn't your fault, Matthew." He said, getting his composure back together. Arthur straightened up, releasing the boy's shoulders, and a scolding expression returned. "Come on, we have to talk to Francis." He turned and began heading to a door.

"Francis?" the blonde repeated, perplexed. "W-Why?" Arthur didn't stop walking, so Matthew jogged to catch up to the dead-pan Brit.

"We have reason to believe that demons are coming to the surface and are killing the human travelers." He replied, a business element in his tone. The two strode down the long corridor, other angels travelling to and fro.

"H-Haven't they been doing that f-for y-years?" Matthew asked quietly, trying to keep up with the fast-paced Brit.

"Yes, but they have been doing it more lately. A lot more." He said. Arthur's attention was focused straight ahead as he informed the blonde. "We think they're up to something."

"Like what?" Matthew gaped.

"We don't know yet, that's the thing." Arthur replied. He turned sharply down a different hallway, causing Matthew to stumble slightly before catching up to the Brit.

"Then h-how can you be s-sure?" he inquired. Matthew was still unsure of where Arthur was taking him. He still followed, none the less; jogging after him obediently.

"When demons feed, especially if it's human blood, they grow stronger." The elder explained matter-of-factly.

"I-I understand that, b-but what can Francis d-do about it?" The Canadian followed Arthur into a large room that was unfamiliar to him.

A large circular table, covered by many papers and documents, was in the middle of the room. Bookshelves were lined up on two walls, parallel to each other, and were filled completely with ancient literature and scriptures. A screen was pulled down that was being used for, what Matthew could assume, projecting something onto it. What was illuminated the screen was a picture of a young boy, probably no older than 15. His name was Raivis Galante. The boy had short curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and was short for his age. Matthew guessed he must have been one of the deceased travelers Arthur was talking about. What perked his interest was where he was from. The boy was from Latvia, which was odd.

Other angels surrounded the table, shouting and flipping through multiple documents. The ruckus was lessened as Arthur entered the room. Matthew trailed in behind him and remained practically un-seen. Francis spotted Arthur enter and he approached.

"What took you so long?" his heavy French accent came through as he glared at the Englishman.

"That's none of your bloody business, Francis." He stated, although, it was almost borderline growling.

"Oh? I believe it is, Mon Cher, when you show up late to a mandatory meeting." Francis countered with raised brows. The Brit rolled his eyes and released an exasperated sigh.

"I had… business to attend to." Arthur lowered his tone as he discreetly looked over his shoulder to Matthew, who had been quiet this whole time.

Indigo eyes looked to the floor, avoiding an emerald gaze. Francis noticed and peeked over the Englishman's shoulder, curious about the sudden change in attitude. Arthur's attitude practically screamed 'we-still-haven't-talked-this-through' to whatever it was he was looking at. Francis wanted to know what was going on, being the gossip-loving angel he was. When the Frenchman saw Matthew his features lit up.

"Mon petite Matthew!" the man cried out happily.

"H-Hello, Francis." Matthew politely replied, giving the flamboyant blonde a sheepish smile. His voice as quiet as it usually was when he talked to other angels. Francis pushed passed the scowling Brit and wrapped his arms around the meek angel in a close embrace.

"Was Arthur being mean to you?" he said into Matthew's ear with a pout on his lips.

"W-W-What?" the Canadian squeaked, a little blush dusting his cheeks due to embarrassment. "N-No, he-"

"That's enough, Frog. Let the boy be." Arthur growled.

Francis rolled his eyes but let Matthew go. Not before winking seductively and sauntering away. The three angels settled down at the table with the others and the meeting began. A larger built angel spoke up. Matthew recognized him. It was Ludwig.

Clearing his throat, Ludwig spoke. "Arthur, do you know what it is those demons are planning?"

Arthur shook his head. "Sadly, I don't know exactly what it is. However, I do know that it is something that should not be taken lightly." He was addressing the situation as best as he could. It was rather difficult. Demons were cunning, or at least the ones behind this scheme were. Another angel, a red-head, piped up. Matthew recognized him as well. That was Feliciano, the Italian. He and Matthew had talked a few times.

"But why now?" he chirped with furrowed brows in a perplexed expression.

"It's not starting now. This, I'm sure, is just preparation for what is next... Whatever that may be." The room exploded with questions, startling Matthew and making Arthur's head hurt.

The rest of the meeting was speculating ideas as to what was going on and going over the victim list, which was unsettlingly large. The death count was 32 people. Matthew left the room feeling slightly sick to his stomach. Was all that true? Could demons be that powerful? He, himself, has never run into a live demon. After that meeting, he hoped he never would. The very thought chilled him to the bone. Matthew made his way to his room, seeing as it was getting late. As he tried to get settled in his bed, however, he realized he couldn't fall asleep. Too much talk of demons, killing, and death made Matthew uneasy. Even though he was the son of Arthur, a warrior angel who was in charge of battle plans and training, he couldn't stand death. He couldn't stand fighting.

Arthur had been on the front line for years. His brother, Alfred, was going to go into training once he was of age. Every now and then, Arthur showed Alfred some moves. He offered to teach Matthew as well, but the little angel was never interested. Matthew would sit back and watch his brother and father sprawl. It was entertaining and… endearing. The two never looked so happy. A wide smile adorned his brother's face, as Arthur would so him the technique behind it. Those were the days, Matthew thought. He, his brother, and Arthur were close. An actual family.

Times have changed since then. They grew older, and grew further apart. When Alfred disappeared that only made things worse. Matthew decided to get out of bed and walk around, the thoughts of his brother and how things used to be were too much for him. Maybe he could go out, only for a little while, and come back. Usually that worked to settle his nerves.

Matthew was lucky to have such a large balcony over-looking the sea of fog below. He slowly walked out and took a deep breath of the night air. His white wings spread wide as he got ready to go. With a swift, effortless, movement the boy was propelled upwards. Once he was in the air, a smile graced his lips. Nothing beat flying at night. The wind brushed against his cheeks, giving them a rosy colour as he soared through the sky. It ran through his hair and ruffled the feathers on his wings. Whenever he saw a nearby cloud, he would reach out and run his fingers gently over the delicate fluff. He was so careless when he flew like this. He felt so free.

Matthew flew over the gates, knowing he wouldn't be seen this far up. He wouldn't even need the passageway tonight. It's just a quick flight! He warned himself mentally. Just until I calm down enough to sleep. The boy was so distracted in thought; he didn't notice the figure behind him.

A flapping sound came from behind and Matthew turned sharply just in time to see a dark blur coming at him. The impact of the collision sent Matthew falling backwards. He came crashing to the ground harshly; a choked scream was torn from his throat as he skidded across the rough ground. Once Matthew came to a stop, the thing that hit him landed with grace and strode forward confidently. Matthew got a good look at who it was who hit him. Before Matthew stood an albino clad in navy military clothes, a smirk adorning his features. Bright red eyes shone in the darkness with a malicious intent.

The figure walked over to the angel that was lying helplessly on the ground. The boy looked to be young. His face was contorted by pain and his big purple-blue eyes showed immense fear. The boy's wavy hair was disheveled, splashed across his face and the ground. The one feature that stuck out the most was his majestic wings that looked to be at an awkward angle. When the boy fell, his wings were instinctively put out in front of him to soften the blow. Almost like a shield, his wings wrapped around him during his descend backwards. Because of that, his wings took the brunt of the impact and looked to be broken. The demon snickered to himself as he approached.

Matthew felt a heavy boot come down on his chest. A pained gasp escaped his lips as the demon pressed down with more of his weight. The figure was much larger than Matthew was. With his wings in such a state, Matthew couldn't do anything. The larger man draped his arm over his knee as he leaned in closer to speak.

"Kesesese~" he snickered again. "My, my, my. Who do we have here?" he said, cocking his head. The demon's crimson orbs trailed over the Canadian appraisingly.

"M-Matthew." The boy squeaked. "W-Who are y-you?" Slowly, he felt his lungs being crushed under the pressure of the boot-clad foot that was pressing down squarely on his chest. Matthew's breath became heavier as it was quickly becoming more difficult to breathe.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt" he replied cockily, a large Cheshire-cat-like grin twisted his features. "Not that you need to know that."

Matthew's head cocked as he stared up at the demon, Gilbert as he was told, with a confused expression. The demon's tone was cold, sadistic even, but that smile was what gave Matthew the chills. "T-T-Then w-why-"

Gilbert took his foot off the Canadian's chest and decided to kick Matthew in the stomach, cutting his stuttering sentence short. "Because I'm awesome. Now shut it!" he barked loudly. Just as he wound up for another kick, a snarling voice stopped him.

Back away from the boy, Gilbert.

Crimson eyes widened drastically as the Prussian realized who's voice it was that echoed through his mind dangerously. It wasn't actually said out loud, and Gilbert cursed to himself mentally. Shiza! What is he doing here?! The albino paused and looked around the clearing they were in. No one was in sight, making Gilbert's stomach drop. He was there; deep in the shadows.

He's mine.

The voice growled again, causing a visible shudder to pass through Gilbert. Deep within the forest behind the angel, shadows within shadows shifted. They moved slightly, just ever so slightly, but that was enough for Gilbert's blood to run cold. He was here. He was watching. But why?

Matthew watched as the albino cowered away, not before scowling at the Canadian with narrowed hate-filled eyes. Gilbert turned sharp on his heels and dashed away. He spread his black bat-like wings and took off. The angel just sat back and watched, confused at what just happened. When he was alone, Matthew tried to stand but couldn't muster the energy. The boy laid there, panting and exhausted. Pain was everywhere; in his wings, down his back, and all throughout his body. The outer corners of his vision began to blur as his consciousness slowly drifted away from him. Everything went black.

Cautiously, a man entered the clearing. He jogged over to the unconscious angel on the ground. As he reached the boy, the man kneeled down next to the boy's face. Matthew was still breathing, which relieved him greatly. It also seemed that the blonde was somewhat responsive to his touch. So beautiful… he thought to himself.

He pulled the blonde in to his arms and looked him over. Other than the damaged wings, Matthew looked fine. His skin was a little dirty from when he skid across the rough terrain. The blonde looked like a pebble skipping across water. It pained the man when he saw that.

He walked out of the clearing, angel in his arms. The man looked for a place that was sheltered from above. It'd be bad if some other angel saw him at that moment. Once he found a place he deemed acceptable, the man carefully set the boy down. The angel was propped up against a nearby tree. First thing to do, especially since it was quite dark out, was to make a fire. He was fine. Being a demon, darkness was his element. For an angel, it was quite different. Their vision wasn't as sharp, and they tended to be slightly weaker. Not all angels were like that, but with Matthew the man couldn't be too careful.

He would need to find some kindle wood and dry grass to start the fire. As he walked away from the boy, he looked over his shoulder one last time. He hoped that Matthew would be safe here while he was gone. If he could choose, he wouldn't leave but he can't do that. They need fire. Matthew needed fire. That was his motivation, so he continued onward.

When Matthew came to, he wasn't where he originally thought he was. He knew he was in some kind of clearing before he went under. Now he was somewhere deep in the forest. How did I…? A noise from his right, a twig or something snapping, made Matthew jump. A tall, platinum-haired male entered the tiny area, twigs in hand. What alarmed Matthew was not his shockingly gorgeous eyes, deep pools of lavender that seemed to shine in the darkness, but the black tail that poked out behind him. It twitched once the two made eye contact. Indigo orbs, vast in colour and shades of blue as well as purple, met deep lilac orbs. It took only a few seconds for Matthew's eyes to widen. He began to scramble backwards, or he tried to. A tree behind him prevented him from going far.

"Calm down." The evil spirit stated while setting the twigs on the ground. The white's of the boy's eyes were visible as his chest heaved, staring at the man uneasily.

"W-What d-do you w-want?" Matthew asked with as much bravery he could muster, but his entire frame was shaking with fear. It came out quiet and terror was quite evident in his voice.

"You are hurt, da? I can help." He said slowly, eyes narrowing in an unreadable expression.

"G-G-Get away!" the blonde quietly exclaimed. .

The man frowned deeply. This wasn't how he expected their first confrontation to go. Actually, it is what he expected. He just didn't want it to happen like this. He wanted Matthew to be happy and smiling, not shaking with fear.

"I'm trying to help, da?" The elder said, almost a low growl. His accent was thick and Matthew could tell he was Russian. Or at least, was at some point in time. The man stepped forward and Matthew flinched.

"N-No!" the boy shrieked while kicking his legs out in an attempt to keep distance between himself and the Russian. It was all in vain, as the man kneeled in front of Matthew. Firm hands were placed on his legs, preventing them from being able to kick out.

"Stop struggling." He stated bluntly. Matthew gulped at the authority behind the man's tone. It held such power, that Matthew froze. The boy's body tensed as the Russian leaned closer to examine the angel for any damage.

Matthew's breath hitched as the distance between the two slowly drifted away. The man's eyes roamed over the angel. For a demon, he had nice eyes; bright lilac with multiple shades of other purples blending nicely in the mix. Those eyes looked straight into Matthew's, almost as if he was looking directly into him. They were averted as the demon focused on Matthew's wings. It was silent as the demon looked Matthew over. Not an awkward silence but just… quiet. It was the angel who broke the silence first, however.

"W-Who are you?" he asked quietly.

The demon met his gaze. "I'm Ivan."

Matthew waited for the question to be returned, but it never was. When their eyes met again, Matthew felt a strange feeling in his stomach. Another silence fell between them, but it was Ivan who broke it this time.

"Your wings." He commented; eyes locked on the perverse wings. Matthew blinked a few times, slowly coming at of his daze.

"O-Oh yeah." He absentmindedly hummed, looking over his shoulder. When he actually saw what they looked like, a small frown fell upon his lips. They really didn't look too good.

A soft, yet firm, hand rested upon the beaten wing. It didn't move away from his touch, but a sharp intake of breath came from the blonde. Ivan dreaded what he had to do next…

"I'm sorry." He muttered lowly. "This will hurt." His eyes were fixed on his hand that was resting on the angel's wing instead of looking into the boy's face. He didn't want to watch the pain flash through those amethyst orbs. Before Matthew had the chance to ask what he meant by that, Ivan flicked his wrist in one fluid movement. He gritted his teeth as a scream was ripped from Matthew's throat.

Matthew's wing exploded with pain that traveled all the way down his spine. After the initial pain passed, a tingling took over. Ivan took the time to reposition the wing. Matthew felt a numbing sensation in his left wing. His healing abilities were beginning to kick in. That was one thing about Matthew that distinguished him from the other angels back home. He could heal. Mostly, he used it on himself or any injured animal he came across in the forest. Arthur had caught on to his gift when he watched Matthew bring one of the mice in the castle back to health. No one else knew. Matthew was going to use that to his advantage.

Matthew had stopped trembling now. Perhaps, he was bracing himself for the next wing to be snapped back into place. Ivan hoped that the boy no longer feared him. He never wanted Matthew to get hurt. It made his blood boil when he saw Gilbert attack Matthew. He wanted to kill the Prussian right then and there. What had stopped him, of course, was the angel beneath the albino's boot. If Ivan ran into Gilbert later on, the Prussian wouldn't be as lucky the second time around.

This time, Matthew was ready. He wasn't going to scream or cry out. No, he planned on staying silent. Now that he knew it was coming, he braced himself and looked away. Matthew clamped his eyes shut as he felt a hand gingerly rest on his other wing. It's coming…

Ivan jerked the wing quickly, hoping it didn't hurt as much. He knew all too well that Matthew was in a lot of pain. Ironically, it was Ivan causing the anguish so that his wings would heal. It was a bittersweet situation. Either he leave the wings alone, preventing Matthew from being able to fly ever again, or he snapped it back into place. The latter of the two options were much better in the long run.

Ivan was relieved when he didn't hear another scream but he knew Matthew was suffering. For most angels, wings were a sensitive area, especially when damaged. The angel was tough, though. Tears were beading at the corner of the blonde's eyes, threatening to fall but not going to.

Slowly, the agony shown on Matthew's face faded away as the muscles in his body relaxed. The boy slumped against the tree. His breath had a slight pant to it, as he seemed to have held his breath the whole time. When his eyes opened, Ivan was taken aback. Those bright amethyst orbs looked up at him with such a soft expression. They didn't show fear, mistrust, or hatred. The boy looked up at Ivan, studying his features. It didn't look harsh or judgmental either; just curiosity taking over.

Matthew looked at Ivan; actually looked. The man may have a frightening exterior but Matthew wasn't scared. For awhile, he had thought he was afraid. There was this strange feeling in his stomach, which he had heard humans describe as 'butterflies'. In all reality, until that very moment Matthew never understood why humans said that. It was fitting, though. It felt like butterflies were inside his stomach whenever his and Ivan's skin touched lightly or their eyes met. It was a weird sensation and Matthew had thought it was fear. Now, however, he knew it wasn't that. When you fear something, you usually want it as far away from you as possible… Right? So why was it he not only didn't mind the demon's closeness, but… he actually enjoyed it. Wait what?! Matthew's eyes widened drastically at that one thought that passed through his mind.

Ivan sensed the boy's sudden tension so, as after he finished repositioning the wing, he backed off. He stood and decided to tend to the fire; which was getting smaller from neglect. There was no way Ivan wanted to make Matthew any more uncomfortable than he already was. Not when things were going so well. Ivan thought to himself as he poked at the fire to rouse the un-touched kindle wood. Or… Am I over thinking things? I must be. There is no way an angel like Matthew would ever feel anything, aside from fear, for something like me… A bitter wave of hurt washed over Ivan for a brief second, but he quickly buried it. Ivan knew Matthew was looking at him, he could feel eyes on his back. What he didn't know was the angel's plan.

As Ivan went to the small fire, Matthew rested his head back against the tree. His whole frame relaxed as he waited for his other wing to finish healing itself. The whole time he kept his eyes on the, oddly handsome, demon. Stop thinking that way! He scolded himself mentally. Focus on escape. Matthew knew by the way Ivan's muscles seemed to be relaxed, that he had a small window for escape. If he flew off, Ivan would be unsuspecting and therefore Matthew had the advantage. Now, all he needed was… there! The numb-feeling in his wing both his wings faded. Meaning, they were healed enough to fly.

Ivan looked over his shoulder to Matthew. The boy had been silent for awhile and Ivan began to worry. Those 'butterflies' –such a strange saying– returned to Matthew's stomach as lavender orbs met indigo. Without thinking, Matthew leapt up from the ground and took flight to the sky. He went high above the trees; high above Ivan. It took seconds of looking around to figure out where he was and how to get home. The mountain that guarded his home stood proudly towards his left and, much to his relief, it didn't look too far. His wing may be 'healed' but it wasn't 100% yet. It still needed to rest. If he strained himself now, Matthew would be in a lot of trouble. Thankfully, the flight was short and easy. He made it back to his room safe and un-detected by other angels (not that that was his major concern anyway.)

Only, there was one problem; he had even more questions than before.