But Croy seemed to have grown distant at Adams last words, muttering something to him. "People..." He murmured. "Adam, do you know how many generations of people I have lived through? Have seen die?" subconciously, he reached back and unbuckled the straps that held down his massive gray wings; They towered over him, covered him in shadow. Feathers fell, raining down on the ground like a shower, but the wings themselves showed no weakness.
"Have you ever... been made out to be a bad guy, Adam? Even when you did nothing wrong?"
He laughed a little, through his teeth. "Oh, yha. Or was once. Hes a little bit desperate, I think, now." He stretched. "Nothing bad on him, but hes really.. afraid, afraid I dont love him, afraid of a lot of things."