He hadn’t anticipated this. The fallen angel had moved fast and far after he was freed from the grasps of the man who held him brainwashed for a majority of his life, though he had forgotten the threat beyond that. Father was looking to take him back, probably to use him as an investment again. Under no circumstances, would he let that happen again.
It had lead to many sleepless nights, many hushed but hurried footsteps to keep moving. If he had a place to stay, he’d hole up and barricade there, but so far he has no place to hide. Darkness slowly saturated the sky as he slowed, feeling that maybe he had bought enough time. Unfortunately, he had managed to calculate wrong. Due to his tired state, he hadn’t noticed the presence until it was touching him.
A hand roughly grasping at his scruff had Torrin tensing, instantly lashing out in a open-palm strike that collided with the side of the person’s face, creating an audible thud as they recoiled and released him on instinct. Wide violet eyes noticed movements in the shadows, in the corners of his vision and he knew there were likely others around, though there’s no way of knowing if they were all together or if there were unrelated people just caught in the area as this happened.
He turned to try to run down the alley so close he could almost feel it, his wings automatically manifesting as he moved so that once a distance was made he could really get the hell out of here - but that backfired. Not only was he just barely not fast enough to successfully duck into the alleyway, rough hands closed around delicate wing structure and pulled, almost pulling Torrin off his feet as the edge of his wing pulsed once in reactionary pain. Gritting his teeth and spinning slightly, Torrin’s heels are fast, the blade hidden in the sole of one shoe clicking free and slashing through the pants leg and into flesh from the accomplice of the one with a hold on his wing.
In automatic response his captor pulled harder, a subtle crackling straining a delicate bone, a few oil slick black feathers being wrenched painfully free as he staggered, his light weight definitely putting him at a disadvantage here. Nevertheless, his own instincts kicked in and he leaned back into the person pulling his wing, just long enough to land another slash on the accomplice via some fancy footwork. Naturally using his momentum as the other pulled him close to swivel and wrench himself free, his wing throbbed again in a wash of pain.
Using a knife hidden up a sleeve to slash across the person’s jawline, it was just enough to startle him. Torrin seized the opening and darted down the alleyway, his instincts driving him to weave a weird path of twists and turns after he got to the end of it.
Almost stumbling over his own feet after he felt a safe distance, he slowed, bruised wing clasped close to his side as his breath hitches. Panting for a minute, his sides heave as he tries to regulate his breathing once more. After he manages to get himself steady again, he starts to step forward once more, aiming to go down a more familiar path.
He stopped in his tracks though when it proved much more crowded than he thought. There were a few people scattered throughout, and he wasn’t expecting someone to put their hand on his shoulder. Tensing and staring at the uniformed person with wide eyes, his hearing caught something about ap involvement and needing to take him in. He knew it was just a ruse though, probably by those that just tried to take him off the streets.