((We really need a concept of travel, people keep popping up in one city then seemingly teleport miles to another within their next post. It will settle with a bit of time I guess, we're all in for a long run until this truly picks up steam. In any case, time to play Merlin in Piltover, although I have always admired Dr. John Dee too.))
EDIT: ((aaand just saw Steelmills edit, okay... can't really do anything till you post an action))
Cave, Ironspike Mountains
Fenix rested quietly by the fire, shifting every once in a while but not too close to the coals. The winds still drifted through the mountains outside, but the narrow entrance blocked most of the noise, making any sounds on the inside easy to hear. Fenix was not in a comfortable position for sleep, but then again, he rarely ever was. Sleeping in a bed was an unnessecary luxury for him, he was used to roughing it. He had been like a regular peasant, rooftops of buildings, slums, large trees and caves were stops for him and he had always been a fan of the old proverb "where I lay my head is home". He could still sleep on the wing, not nearly as rejuvinating as a proper night's rest, but a good way to pass time if used correctly. He grimly remembered oversleeping and slamming into one of Zaun's towers once, there was nothing like a headache and a 15 story drop to wake you up in the morning.
At first glance, a stranger would not see him as particularly threataning, slightly taller than the average Runeterran, with a strong but not bulky physique. White wings protruded from his shoulders, one curled and tucked inward to his spine, the other splayed out across the floor of the cave. One of the unfortunate dissadvantages to being a winged creature was how uncomfortable it was to sleep on your back, particularly on a surface such as this, so he was characteristically on his side.
The angel's clothes were light, dark and built for purpose, not the most heavily armored. Tufts of blonde hair poked out from the top and back of a bandaged face, most his face concealed save for the mouth and ice like eyes. He almost always wore these on away missions, when he knew he would be dealing with people. He carried no scabbard or backpack of sorts, and would appear mostly unnarmed and unprovisioned, which had always been a mixed blessing. No, he did not appear the shining example of justice, strength and authority that most saw angel as, he was simply different, mysterious and much older than he looked.