root-book

As the sun rised his face became bright and warm, he could feel the energy from the sun fueling his veins. No sound of any enemies, animals, people or machines were interfering. His black wings were folded against his back, keeping him warm. Zerapham, an ancient angel of death, ageless, colourless. Gazing towards the galaxy he spreads his wings, tilting forward, leaps and glides throught the air.