Jeepers Creepers: What is this feeling?

Chapter 7: Happy Trails (Rewritten)

I own none of this except for Corbin and the story I am writing. Just know telling someone who is their problem is no "big deal" or "to get over it" is about as much help as asking a drowning person if they're 'okay' while standing from a far distance. No, help them give them your time, point them to a brighter future that they can look forward to. Or just be a friend that they can cry on. Our minds can be our worse enemy. But I believe we can be stronger if we put aside our differences and help one another as we look at the world around us.

The afternoon sun hangs high in the clear blue skies, illuminating the fields unkempt tall grass and flora sprawling out before Corbin's eyes. She closes her eyes to savor the feeling of the light breeze tickling her face, feeling a sense of giddiness when it ruffles through her thick raven locks. The inhuman woman opens them at the sound of familiar croaking, seeing as her faithful familiar landed on her knee with his inky feathers giving off a golden sheen from the sun. Corbin gives a fond smile as gently scratches his throat, careful to never rip him open as he gives out little satisfied chirps of approval. 

She's currently crouched on the ledge of the roof between the words of the meatpacking factory's decrepit sign, wings open to both bask in the heavenly glow of the sun and to prepare for taking off. Corbin glances to her side where the faded wooden U of the sign's DePue word; after a moment of thought, she breaks off a piece of the aged wood to place in her pocket. Looking around the roof of the dull lifeless building, Corbin muses how this manmade structure, with a history of death before it even was shut down, strongly contradicts the surrounding life. 

'Hm, in Spring nonetheless, the time of rebirth and renewal. The time for Ostara...'

Corbin sighs to herself as she grinds her teeth, longingly looking up as two common sparrows fly by. 

'Here I am, rotting away from the inside out.'

The inhuman woman bemoans to herself, watching the world go before her eyes. She then wonders to herself if the Creeper ever took the time to just enjoy the scenery or take flight for the sheer pleasure of it. Corbin scoffs at the thought, as she highly doubts that her mate is the type to stop and smell the flowers rather than scenting the air for fear while indulging in his bloody hunt. Speak of the devil, she's pulled from her thoughts as she senses the Creeper's presence approaching her before he even exits the building. Corbin doesn't turn around when she hears the old door creak open, instead of speaking to him before he could even get a word in.

"I'm fine. I just wanted some air."

As one would with a skittish horse, Creeper takes careful steps towards his mate. He stops a few inches behind her, his expression mostly unreadable save for his furrowed brows and a slight frown. While not as adept at emotions as Corbin, he at least can identify that something is bothering is his mate but unable to pinpoint the origin of it. With prey, he could care less since that only means more fear for him later, however, his mate is not prey. 

"What... wrong?"

Corbin doesn't answer him nor could he read her expression since she blocked most of her front out with her wings, making the Creeper have to consider another strategy. He raises a hesitant hand to place on the female's wing, attempting to move it down as to get a proper look at her face and, hopefully, for her to look at him. He sort of gets what he wants. 

Within the blink of an eye, Corbin has a hunting knife, the same knife from the other day, pointing at the Creeper's Adam's apple just shy of a hair width from penetrating the skin. She at least looks towards the older male as she did this, looking down at her hand and up to him. She briefly looks away in shame before putting away the knife into her hoodie's pocket, said the hoodie is tied around her waist. Corbin then closes her wings while still somewhat facing the Creeper.