rays of pale morning sunshine peeked through the barred window of 1917's cell, warming his feathery facial features. in response to the wake-up call, 1917 hastily stirred from his slumber with lingering feelings of melancholy carrying over from his unconscious state. ruddy golden feet stretched forward to shield his dark eyes from the sun, blunt black talons casting ominous shadows in their wake. whatever he'd dreamed about, it was lost now. it'd been a sorrowful echo, but what else? sighing, the griffon drew himself into a brief stretch and then raised his body to full height, ice blue wings stretching towards the sky. as if they could actually reach such heights after having their flight feathers snipped in two. 1917 was a griffon who'd never taken to the skies. perhaps he never would, courtesy of his former owners and their wariness towards the adolescent. for that purpose, he was denied of all his natural weaponry. his claws, talons and wings were all beaten into submission.
the clatter of chains dragged along the stairwell heralded the griffon's descent into the cafeteria. the ground floor was populated by a shallow scattering of earlybirds, chattering and sharing breakfast with one another. 1917 slunk past the various huddles and menacing wallflowers, avoiding so much as brushing against the assembled populace. social butterflies, menacing wallflowers, what looked to be the force-feeding of some outsider taking place in one of the corners...it was a struggle to find anyone that he wished to actively engage with. the majority of people either intimidated him into submission or confused him. stepping out into the muffled wind of the canyon, the griffon rested himself against the wall and sighed. all these people were rather overwhelming. nevertheless, he should probably get around to hunting for himself.