The 'monster' lay sprawled atop a tangle of crushed undergrowth, left wing doubled up underneath him at an angle that was not natural. with his primaries pointing forward instead of back. His sleek black sides rose and fell with each shallow breath. Its obvious he's alive, injured but very much alive.<br/><br/>His head hurt. a lot and his wing hurt even more, it throbbed with black agony and every time he took a breath or made the smallest movement, it lanced liquid fire down his shoulder and side. A low groan bubble up from his vocalizer as consciousness rushed back to him in a sickening wave. The first thing he became acutely aware of was the blazing agony in his wing. Slowly he took stock of every bruise and dent and source of pain of his battered body before he was satisfied that moving wasn't going to make anything worse.<br/><br/>Gritting his teeth he slowly rolled over, fighting down a low whine of agony as his broken wing was shifted, and worked his trembling legs until they underneath him. He tucked the one fore limb against his chest, panting harshly. There was nothing on him that did not ache or throb in some manner. Bits of crushed vines and broken branches stuck to his jet black platting. He wasn't going to be bale to fly for some time which meant he was going to be a target for smaller predators. And the fleshing provided it hadn't just wondered off while he had been unconscious.<br/><br/>He turned slowly, damaged wing dragging on the ground sending flares of pain through his frame, stiffening the moment he saw the human he had been following standing a short distance away, pointing a gun at him. He huffed in irritation, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown while his long tail flicked back and forth in agitation. The flesh bag had some nerve pointing a weapon at him!<br/><br/>"Gehea!" He barked out in his native tongue, optics narrowing. He was in no mood to deal with a fleshling. "Go back! You don't belong here!" he hissed out. He was injured, tired and no doubt there were other predators tracking the thick chemical scent of the blood dripping from his injured wing combined with the churning storm overhead meant he had to find cover.