Pulchra-Ineritus

Nothing Left Behind Balloch circled the suburbs of Perth a few times until he found his mark. He fanned his wings out, drew up sharply and slowed his descent. He beat its wings three or four times in rapid succession and settled onto the ground at the end of a dead-end street. In front of him, pressed between two small white houses was a pile of rubble. Home. He sifted through the rubble with a claw. Smells of rotten apple pie, dirt, rotten food, broken oven, microwave, fridge, and cracked plywood assailed him. There wasn't anything left salvageable, nothing that'd be of any use or worth to him anyway. He wasn't even sure why he came back he