Rae snorted out a laugh, and began to laugh even more. "C-come on! It wasn't that hard, was it?!" Fighting words out between struggles for breath and giggles, Rae looked toward her friend, who was currently picking their face out of the dirt after failing to land properly. "Shut up... Not everyone is immortal, you know? You've got plenty o' time to practice!" The little Orc sputtered, his wings flickering indefinitely with his annoyance. This was true, although Rae is trapped inside the body of a child, she has lived for nearly twenty two hundred years! Rae is known as one of the few remaining Children of Twilight, a child born from mortal parents, who was mingled by the Goddess herself. This child carries most traits from both parents like normal, but is often infused with a completely different race, and at times altered to reflect the Goddess's beauty. Examples, listed in rarity. Races are mostly unlimited, though they cannot be anything soulless, such as zombies. An Elven family can bare the child of a Human. An Elven family can bare the child of a Half Fae, half Elf. An Elven family can bare the child of a grotesque mixture of a Demon, Werewolf, and a Vixen. Surprisingly, it sounds ugly, but the child is most often more beautiful than the parents them selves, but small things indicate the child is theirs. The mothers nose. The fathers eyes. However, an Elven mother cannot bare a child of an Orcish father, and vice versa. Character. Rae is a child of the rarest type, imbued with three races which happen to near never die from age. An Elf; giving her the pointed ears of an elf, nose, Emerald green eyes, and adoration of nature. She will go out of her way to feed a squirrel, and put her life on the line to rescue a bird nest in despair. A Fae; giving her utmost beauty, but at a price. She has the watered down version of a Fae's devious lifestyle, also known as 'Living on the Edge.' She also carries the wings of Fae, which are in the form of the normal Butter-Fly type. They are incredibly soft, and mostly transparent. But they are very sensitive, and a light tear can ground a Fae for weeks. The Butter-Fly wing type are able to fold, and can be easily hidden under clothing. A Dwarf; giving her a permanent hinder to height, and by the influence of the other races, she looks like a child, even if she feels if she is not. She collects mostly anything shiny, has has a punch known to crack iron, similar to a Dwarf. Personality: Rae for the most part is a honey-sweet child who will instantly fall in love with anything soft, or fuzzy. But she is known for her pranks and antics, and is always being watched whenever she is near, which usually causes her to do nothing at all, hating anything that could insult her. Rae looked down at her struggling friend, and eventually offered him her hand in help. "Yeah, well, you're only twelve and you can freeze Uncle Norrik's door shut when I can barely make a little puff of light." She smiled at him as she pulled him up, her wings pattering to give her extra balance. The Orc child stared at her with a strange look on his face. "Why do your wings sound like little twigs being battered together? It's annoying." This wiped the smile right from her face, and she quickly let go of his hand before he was fully standing, causing him to stumble backward some. It was true, but she never thought it annoying. Whenever she used her wings they made tiny clicking sounds, she thought it was cute. "Why don't you think before saying anything, Pip." She hissed the words out, leaving without waiting for his reply, which she knew wouldn't be anything good. 'Pip' was what she used to call him when they hated each other, and it drove him near to the point of murder, but she always got away before he could get close. Rae brought her arm up to wipe it across her face in anger, and to her surprise it came back wet with her tears. She never noticed she started crying. And then it suddenly came in a rush, and she had to find somewhere to settle down before she killed herself. Clumsily, and almost missing entirely, Rae lowered herself onto the think bark of a large branch of an old Elder tree. She hated everything, she hated her gift. She thought that it wasn't even a gift, but a curse. A curse to live on while all the people you grew with changed, forgot about you, then died. A curse where all of those you loved could never stay with you. A curse that sparks nothing but insult and treachery. And she cursed herself, for not even being able to hold a friendship for more than a couple of months. And for being so needy when others were suffering around her. Peace, this peace has caused nothing but masked hatred, the very peace that I'm responsible for. Rae knew she was crying, but she didn't know that those around her could hear her as perfect as day, or the fact she had forgotten to hide her wigs.