"Fallen angels" by Logan Pickup

He dips and circles, laughing in the sunlight. His partner swoops beside him, and together they dance across the cloud-tops, golden-red hair flaming in the sun. He never takes his eyes off her, nor does she ever let him out of her sight. Even as they flit across the skies they are never further than a wingtip apart. He drinks in every feature on her body as though seeing it anew every time, ver violet eyes glow as she beholds her silver-skinned mate, and their vision is complete in their love of each other.

They play together as they soar among the wisps of cloud, one sometimes caught by the caress of the other as they fly close. The emotion between them is so palpable it almost seems as though one could smell the ozone as sparks leap between them. They draw close, the air humming in anticipation; her mouth parts, and his lips cover hers. Their eyes closed, they float in love and bliss, and a misty hand reaches from out of the clouds and drags him down, beneath them.

She opens her eyes and cries out as she feels emtpiness where she was once whole, her love no longer next to her, and they share one last glance before he is swallowed by the clouds. She circles desperately, screaming out for him, her lips still moist from their last kiss. He hears her cries as he is dragged down and yells in response, but no matter how he flaps and struggles the cold hand takes him down.

Mist clongs to his wings as he descends, until he breaks through the cloud. A stark, rocky land greets his sight, covered with a blanket of dark grey cloud, lashed by rain. He realises the hand no longer holds him, and so tries again to fly back up, but his dripping wings are too heavy to fly. Flapping pitifully, he spirals to the rocks below.

He lands heavily, gets up slowly. His eyes bleed sorrow as he looks at his wet, useless wings. The hunter stands behind him, spear in hand. She allows a moment of pity for the poor creature as she strikes, the spear flying through his chest. The hunter walks to the fallen body and pull her spear out. She dips a finger in the bright red blood, and makes a mark across her breast, over her heart, then turns and leaves.

Barely alive, he crawls across the rock, until he reaches a crumpled figure. He touches her silver skin, and with the last of his strength turns her head to behold her violet eyes. Spent, her collapses by her broken body, and they rejoice in the glory of each other's love, all pain forgotten, until they both breathe their last breath, and die.