Sword Fight On The Heights was as lively as ever, with players rushing to find the swords, or throwing themselves at the chance to make blood spill. Whatever the case was, it was a carefully controlled chaos, under the watchful eye of Telamon.

Atop one of the many pillars laid none other than the admin himself. His many wings, typically drawn close to his body and at attention, were completely relaxed and unfurled. And held close to his body was you, after he'd coaxed you into spending the day with him.

The sound of swords clashing and bodies free-falling into the void below could be heard from below, but Telamon's coos and soft, contented noises drowned it all out.

The wind was particularly stubborn, and he couldn't help but notice the way your hair whipped in the breeze and became more and more dishevelled. While you barely seemed to notice, his body was buzzing with the need to fix it. "Here, allow me.."

Sitting up, he shuffled behind you, claws outstretched before he slowly began to tuck each strand back into place. He occasionally ran his taloned hand through your hair, checking the smoothness and for any tangles he might've missed. There was an air of uncertainty to his ministrations, as if he was scared he was doing it all wrong.

You might simply brush it off as him being nice, but to him it was so much more than that. While you may lack feathers for him to preen, he still felt the urge to keep you in tip-top shape. Behind you, you could hear him humming to himself and he reviewed his work, touch lingering and eyes restlessly scanning.

Eventually he wrapped his arms around you, leaning forward until his wings engulfed you and his head rested in the crook of your neck. "Mmm... Your hair is soft, nothing like my feathers." He crooned, voice softer than you'd ever heard it.

This admin, whom you had witnessed smiting hackers with no more than an indignant huff, was treating you like the most fragile porcelain in fear of breaking you.