![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the air was so dangerous; Crowley shed his limbs, diving into the ground like it was water, torpedoing though the dirt until he came up where Aziraphale had come to rest.
The angel was unconscious, ethereal form clinging desperately to it's bindings, clawing it way back inside the empty body. Crowley lifted a battered wing - the both of them tucked in close, and warlock's terrifed face looked ut back at him from behind the protective curtain of feathers. the human child gaze was wild, unseeing, and he clung to Aziraphale's vest like a life line.
Thankfully, he looked unhurt. or at the lest, any injures could wait to be seen too. "Sssstay with Francis," Crowley hissed at him, scanning the skyline for danger, trying to determine where Hastur had gone.
while the demon might be very good at lurking, he's ground movements had always been a singular up and down endevour, so Crowley was certain he was hiding in sight, just cloaked in shadows.
he ignored warlocks confused demands for answers, darting back under the ground to where the smell of rot was strongest, hoping to come up behind the Duke. in a fair fight, Hastur had Crowley beaten, hands down.
but. they where demons, so it was really anyone's game. all Crowley needed to do was to keep the foul smelling creature occupied until Aziraphale could come back to his senses, and between the two of them, it would be simple enough to make sure Hastur never had the change to try this again.
Hopefully it would give Hell a very clear message that the order to keep away form the pair almost meant to keep away from their humans
The angel was unconscious, ethereal form clinging desperately to it's bindings, clawing it way back inside the empty body. Crowley lifted a battered wing - the both of them tucked in close, and warlock's terrifed face looked ut back at him from behind the protective curtain of feathers. the human child gaze was wild, unseeing, and he clung to Aziraphale's vest like a life line.
Thankfully, he looked unhurt. or at the lest, any injures could wait to be seen too. "Sssstay with Francis," Crowley hissed at him, scanning the skyline for danger, trying to determine where Hastur had gone.
while the demon might be very good at lurking, he's ground movements had always been a singular up and down endevour, so Crowley was certain he was hiding in sight, just cloaked in shadows.
he ignored warlocks confused demands for answers, darting back under the ground to where the smell of rot was strongest, hoping to come up behind the Duke. in a fair fight, Hastur had Crowley beaten, hands down.
but. they where demons, so it was really anyone's game. all Crowley needed to do was to keep the foul smelling creature occupied until Aziraphale could come back to his senses, and between the two of them, it would be simple enough to make sure Hastur never had the change to try this again.
Hopefully it would give Hell a very clear message that the order to keep away form the pair almost meant to keep away from their humans
