The wind slipped through his wings like sands in time. It seemed like it was going faster and faster. He grasped at it feebly, his voice in pathetic gasps. A sob fell to the empty air and he collapsed to his knees in the desert sand.
"Out.. OUT! I want out!" Valgarv's voice cut through the silence. He bared his fangs to the lands that spanned before him as if he could bite through it and scar it evermore. His claws raked through the hot grains. The sharp curves easily parted the sand into narrow trenches, but he was only rewarded with the sight of the grooves caving in as more grains took its place. His damage was never forever. His pain was the only thing that lasted.
That was what drove him crazy.
Valgarv allowed his gaze to rise, over the wavering mirages and to the sky. His pupils contracted into catlike slits. The sun was unbearably bright. He knew that its rays pierced every hiding place, exposing any who hid. Nothing escaped its all-seeing eye, no secret was left untold.
The ryuzoku raised his transformed arm. The ebony feathers spread in aggression as the silhouette of his claws closed over his view of that accursed sun. He smiled, pretending that his hand crushed the ball of fire into nothing more than a pile of cold ashes.
Soon the rest of the world will follow the imagined fate of that light. He had vowed long ago. He would see to it personally.