This is a story I started a while ago...comments always appreciated, let me know what you think (the good and the bad) this was during a time i was obsessed with wings. :/

The sun sank slowly behind thick fluffy clouds, casting pink shadows across the land. Well, if one could even call it ‘land’. There were miles and miles of clouds, everywhere to be seen, varying in shapes, densities, and colors. But perhaps the most curious thing about them was what was built upon them. Yes, structures built on clouds: swirling vapors made windows and supportive columns; small fluffy clouds made walls and doors. But they were not confined to one steady position: they moved as the currents moved, causing them to have the appearance of swaying, or more dramatically, falling. In one of these peculiar structures, up high in the clouds, was a young man of the Celian race named Calanon. He watched the shadows grow and waited for the stars to emerge from the heavens barely inches above him. Calanon was as beautiful as the city around him; flawlessly creamy skin, blue-black hair that hung into his eyes, and equally dark blue eyes. As his heart began to beat slowly and calmly with the flowing rhythm of the atmospheric currents, Calanon was suddenly shoved through his cloudy front door and into the open air, where he immediately began to fall.
“Val!” Calanon yelled as he whipped around to see his best friend laughing so hard that tears were streaming down his face.
His full name was Valdaglerion, but he preferred to be called Val; his full name was only used when he was in trouble, which happened often. When he finally came to and saw his friend falling, he spread his huge golden brown wings and effortlessly flew down to get him. However, Calanon had fallen farther than Val thought, so by the time he reached him, they were far below their cloudy city.
‘Bwahaha! You should’ve seen your face! All brooding and mysterious! Bah!”
Holding Calanon’s left arm, Val quickly tried to get back to the city before anyone noticed.
“Hurry up Val!” Calanon mumbled, “We’re so screwed…”
“Not to worry!” Val smiled with a huge grin on his face. “The Eagalians can get away with everything, you’ll see.”
“VALDAGLERION!!!”
It was a screech to freeze Val in his tracks and lose altitude for a moment. After a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face, he resumed his flight back to the city, with a smile instead of a grin.
“Well, we Eagalians can get away with everything, except when it comes to our mothers.”
He dropped Calanon quite literally on a closest cloud and took off towards the screeching. He paused and glanced behind him.
“Hey Cal,”
Calanon turned to face those golden eyes in his tan face, his wild golden hair drifting any which way.
“Good luck today! It’s gonna be awesome! Haha!! Can’t wait dude! Your own wings!” Val spun around and continued flying home.
Calanon only sighed, and began walking towards the main building. He tried to ignore the stares as he walked through the town. He usually avoided town at all costs, but there was no choice in the matter today. He saw their wings out of the corner of his eye, and he envied them. Blue wings, green wings, white wings, golden wings, big fluffy wings, and sharp pointed wings. He wanted wings more than anything; he wanted to belong. He went through the whole rebellious era and liked being different, but he realized that it wasn’t worth it to practically exile himself. The rest of his town had already done that for him.
When he was only a baby, he witnessed Ravena War, the obliteration of anyone who looked like him. He lost his family, his friends, and his race. The other Tribes believed that Ravenas to be dangerous since they wanted to explore what lay below the Misty Smog. It was a long known fact that if you went below the Misty Smog you would die a horrible death, for creatures not worth describing waited for centuries to attack. The Ravenas believed these monsters to be myth, and went searching anyways. For 10 years before Calanon was even born they had searched below the Mist. Many search parties ensued over the years, and When they returned, alive and unharmed, The Owlens believed them to be cursed, since the idea of beasts below the mist were supposed to the cold hard truth. The Owlens wanted them gone, and spread lies that they carried evil diseases. And they told one truth: that one of the explorers had borne a child with some creature below the mist. Surely it must be evil.
Calanon took a seat on a bench, which had been pink, was turning increasingly purple as night approached. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the stares.
He remembered screaming, the sound of wings beating, the smell of blood, and his mother. She was beautiful and strong, but on this day she looked weak and frightened. It scared Calanon more than the sounds of death he heard outside his very door. He was very young, barely a year old, but he remembered being placed in a basket that rested on a little cloud, and being pushed out into open air. The basket fell slowly, and Calanon watched the fights ensuing far above him. A drop of blood landed on his face, and he began to cry. The cry alerted one of the soldiers, who went after the basket with a spear. A winged woman with the jet black hair flew in the way, and fell into the mist.
Calanon was going to the Hall of Elders to see if he would be allowed to remain a part of the Cumulo Tribe. Tribes consisted of various races, and were designated only by area and type of cloud that they inhabited. Some tribes, however, were separated by race, as it avoided war between different groups that were notorious for not getting along. Calanon was the only Ravena left in the Cumulo tribe. Well, he wasn’t really entirely Ravena—he was part mist creature, and was shunned and avoided. Val was his only friend, his best friend, but he belonged to the notoriously haughty Eagalian race. While Val was nothing like his parents or his peers, he spent most of his time defending Calanon and unintentionally ruining Calanon’s already shady reputation by getting him into trouble. After the infamous incident at the Ritual of the Dark Moon, Calanon had been sentenced to a humiliating punishment: de-winged. He now wore bands around the base of his wings to stifle blood flow. He remembered the day well…

i'm not really a writer, so i can't give any advice, but i thought it was a really good and creative story and i look forward to reading more if you decide to finish it

Nice story I really like it keep up the good work and make more.

I would have to agree with xReaper19x. ur story was creative and i hope u don't lose ur writing skills cuz u can go a long way wit them

WOW!! i love writing storys but not as intence as this one can you post more of it when your done? i would love to read it.

wow thanks! yea, i'll post more of it for sure!
thanks for the support everyone, i'm pretty
soupt over such positive responses!