(OOC: This post is actually something that happened in the past. I've posted it to help build Tanersuk's character a bit, and explain a bit of his history. Don't bother to reply with an IC post.)
"You! Stop, boy! Thief!"
The street vendor seemed to hold onto his gold like each piece was a child of his, Tanersuk thought, slipping between a couple of people. He looked back to see the bald, red faced man point at him, speaking rapidly to some soldiers. Rats. This didn't look so great. Tan started to run, slowly at first, slipping through gaps in the crowd. It wouldn't do to start drawing attention to himself so early. He guessed he had ten seconds before the soldiers started after him.
A chorus of shouts behind Tan heralded the soldiers' entry into the pursuit. The market square was soon to become a stampeding mass of humanity. Tan needed to get out now, while he still could. His heart began to race and he picked up speed, now sprinting through the crowd. He shoved people out of the way indiscriminately, his only desire to escape the crush. Tan shot a look behind him. He could see the soldiers struggling through the mass of people, hindered by their sun-emblazoned armor. So far, so good.
Tan felt his pulse begin to slow again, as he calmed down. The soldiers were a little ways behind him, and he didn't need to panic. Tan eased into a smooth sprint, seeking breaks in the sea of people, his only desire to escape. He shot another look back. The soldiers were even farther behind him. A second later, he caught site of a small alley, a narrow, dark crevasse between two shops. Tan slowed to a walk and eased himself into the crack. There was little room to move, but Tan's thin, wiry, body was perfect for slipping into tight spaces.
As Tan crept further into the alley, he looked back the way he'd come. He searched what few faces he could see from where he was, looking for any sign of alarm. He breathed a sigh of relief. Tan didn't think anyone had noticed. He stopped his progression into the alley, now looking out for the soldiers that chased him. A moment later, they ran by, looking a little winded. Tanersuk waited for a few minutes after they had passed before proceeding out of the alley. He couldn't risk getting caught by a second wave of soldiers.
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Tanersuk sat in a wide alley, between a pair of abandoned houses. The alley was dimly lit, and the ground was strewn with refuse and trash. The first house, the house to the right of the entrance to the alley, was Tan's home. Tan himself sat on the step in front of his house's side door. Tan preferred to enter through the side door, to limit exposure to the street. The street was very sparsely populated, as all of the buildings were abandoned. This suited Tan well, as he didn't normally appreciate other people's company, but he could never be too careful.
Tan opened the sack he had stolen from the vendor. As he had expected, it had a few gold coins and a lot of silver and copper coins. In addition, there was a small piece of dry bread, wrapped in paper. Probably the vendor's lunch. Oh, well. It was Tan's lunch now. As he bit into the hard loaf, a wave of nausea washed over him. A moment later, it was gone. Tan shook his head to clear it. The bread didn't taste that bad.
Without warning, the nausea assaulted Tan again, this time much harder. Tanersuk's muscles seized up, and he tipped over onto the ground. He convulsed where he lay, his back burning like fire. The seizure lasted about a minute, and then let up. Tan lay on the ground for a moment, gasping for breath. Was he sick? He slowly sat up, wincing at the pain in his back. As he stood, he felt an unfamiliar weight on his back. He reached around himself, feeling his back. He ran his hands over the strange things on his back. He could feel long, thin bones, with membrane stretched between them. The strange growths on Tan's back could only be one thing: wings.
Tan gasped in surprise as the revelation hit him. Wings! His days of anonymity were over. People would be able to identify him no matter what! He didn't want wings. After a moment, Tan realized that he had new muscles, to go with the wings. Forgetting his anger for a moment, Tan stretched the muscles, pushing his new wings out to the sides. He got a good look at them for the first time. The bone structure was covered in red scales, and the membranes were reddish flaps of skin.
Tan flapped the wings experimentally, sending a gust of air rolling over him. In a flash, Tan realized the full meaning of these wings: Flight! He flapped them again a few times, harder. If he could lift himself off the ground... He flapped as hard as he could, blowing trash and rats out of the way. After a minute of this, Tan stopped flapping. This was tiring. He would need to exercise these wings before he could really fly. Still... He suddenly pushed down on the air with his wings as hard and fast as he could. This sudden flap pushed him into the air, flinging him a few feet forward and up. Tan smacked into the opposite house, hard.
He crumpled to the ground, his whole front covered in fresh bruises. This was going to take work. Tan was light, but still too heavy for real flight. He needed to get these wings stronger. Not that he was going to keep them... For long anyway. He would find someone to remove them as soon as he could. Wings were not really good for what he wanted to do. Wait... He could use them to escape! Anybody chasing him wouldn't expect to see him shoot up. Yes... that sounded like a good reason to keep them. However, this would mean a radical change in tactics, to better utilize the wings. he wouldn't be able to get by on unobtrusiveness any more. He might be able to get by if he folded them against his back and covered them with a shirt...
Tan picked himself up, wincing as a wall of pain struck him, much like the wall he had just struck himself. He hobbled across the alley into his house. He needed a way to hide his wings. He could exercise them in his alley when he needed to. He wouldn't be trying to fly again for a while. A little while, anyway...
