Disclaimer: Clearly I do not Angel Sanctuary nor any of its characters otherwise I wouldnt be writing 'fanfiction' and would exceptionally satisfied with the living I made. And rich. I would be that also.
The prospect of so much as merely speaking to Lucifel and his Satans - let alone asking them for help – was not something that Uriel desired to endeavour in. They would sneer. Curl their lips. Snigger at his massive being, suddenly so humble in their presence and desperate for their help. They would make him beg first. And that jester, that damnable pet of Lucifels would certainly play the devils advocate and then explain it away with a blink of those electric blue eyes and ' Well, one is a Satan after all…'
This was why, in a situation he deemed of the up most urgency, Uriel scoured his realms to search for what he had lost, postponing the ever more likely inevitable meeting. So he waded through long grass so high it tickled it his stomach, where the green spikes poked through gaps in his black cotton shirt like fingers attempting to prod a man to awaken from a deep sleep. It could be here. Somewhere sucked into this field of green, it was after all very small in comparison to himself. The grass would appear to it like a thicket of green impassable trunks. He wandered over the rocky cliff tops whilst the wind swept his long red hair from his dark face only to thrust it back forwards again so that it whipped his cheek and tickled his nose. Punishing a man whom insisted on wasting time. Moving closer to edge, Uriel watched as his leather boot disturbed the rock, causing a mini avalanche and he heard the hiss of sand as it slid between dancing stones. It could have fallen down here. The cliffs were misty and this made it easy to misstep and stumble into the lake that dissolved souls…He searched the forest: it's so vast, he had told himself, it could be here. The trees creaked their dissension. But, by now, this he knew to be a definite lie because despite the undergrowth being a tangle of plants and vines and roots that caught themselves around unsuspecting ankles to scratch at and to trip. Despite the rough brown of trunks towering upwards – to such dizzying heights that their leafy tops was lost to those living in the little world below – and being so narrowly placed that they obscured vision and muffled sound, repeating their patterns over and over and over so that it was easy for something untrained and unused to this forest to lose itself….Doll knew this realm almost as well as he did.
How often did they venture for a walk together? She would have known not to venture into the long grass, to be wary around the cliffs and – she being a carer of sorts to Uriels needs – the forest would have opened their hearts and spilled their wooden secrets to her so that she may find her way back to him.
No. Had the forest been hiding Doll away – perhaps as a trick of sorts (even Uriel found the humour of trees a little difficult to comprehend at times) – she would have been yielded quickly enough as soon as her master came searching. Uriel took a deep breath, smelt the damp of the earthy soil, felt the cool of the forest and ran his hands over the comfortingly solidness of the trees bark. He kept his eyes closed for a lingering moment, wanting stay frozen in it and then not to have to move and therefore worry. But he was wasting time, he had to concede to defeat and search for Doll in darker realms.
'Bugger'