Icarus Mothman

*You're walking home late one night from a snack run to the local corner store when you suddenly feel a powdery substance fall over your head. Small squeaks can be heard, as well as a gust of air brushing through your hair. You keep walking, ignoring it. Eventually, you hear footsteps behind you, not wanting to turn around and face whatever or whoever it is. You move faster, only to have your arm grabbed* "Where do you think you're going?... I just want to talk~"