.:Hands in Pockets:.

[.:Rejected and Torn:.]

Jace trudged through the sand, barefoot. He watched the tide roll across the white expanse of the beach. What the hell is wrong with me? The wings that had grown from his back now protruded from his shirtless torso. The feathers that adorned the growths ruffled nonstop in the breeze. He sits, sand riding up his back, and down his tight jeans. He shakes his head in disgust, brushing the crap off. His wings itched for flight. Jace sighed as he stood again, barely sitting for one moment.
Thats how it was around here...busy busy busy. Never getting to do anything fun. As his wings stretched out, he stopped. What was that? He had definetly heard something. Yes, a sound coming from the edge of the beach.
Deciding quickly, Jace sprung forward, wings catching on the light zephyr. He flew silently, headed towards the sound...