The Dragon and the Star

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Saren, Apr 9, 2015.

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  1. Every night, he dreamed of flying again. He never envisioned himself in the same place twice, but he could feel the warm wind swell beneath his wings, the open expanse of land whizzing by below him. An excited roar escaped him, tail lashing the puffy clouds above him.

    Just as he would climb higher, he woke up.

    Not a day had gone by since his transformation that he didn't dream about taking flight once again. Light green eyes cracked open just in time to see the last rays of the sun fade behind the leafy trees near his home. He'd been napping for far too long, and his legs itched to go on his daily walk. It was a habit he hadn't broken in decades, and even in his human form, he maintained that habit.

    Combing a hand through his dark hair, he shifted out of bed and stood. He didn't bother turning any lights on; years of living in the same home had helped him learn the exact location of anything in the few rooms he had.

    Shuffling to the door on bare feet, he slid on socks and hit the answer button on the phone. He always slept through his landline ringing, important call or not. He didn't have any mobile phone, since technological advances had slowed when people realized they preferred a simpler life. He didn't mind. He'd lived that way for a long time.

    "Mr. Asherton, it's Danny from the repair shop. We really love the temp worker you sent--" He clicked the skip button, finding he wasn't in the mood to listen to work jargon. Three other messages followed the first, and each centered on work. With each passing message, he grew more sour. His post-nap feeling of slight happiness had been replaced with anger.

    Deleting the messages without even giving the others a full listen, he pulled on his shoes and walked out the front door. He had spent longer in bed than he'd thought, since stars twinkled above him as he walked. His home was out of the way, and he had a trail weaving between the dense trees behind the house. It wound up a tall hill where he could sit and search the stars for the constellations.

    On this night, however, the sky was lit with falling stars. He knew what they were, but the mystical sense of falling stars was what captured the humans. Still, it was a lovely sight indeed, something he hadn't seen for many years. As they streaked across the sky, one in particular seemed to draw closer than normal, growing bigger to his naked eye. Only a few seconds passed before he realized it was indeed coming closer, and there was a brief moment before the star collided with the earth. It created a thunderous boom, burying itself in the ground and destroying he surrounding grass and trees.

    He jogged down the hill, following the path of destruction to the smoking heap of rock that was the fallen star. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, but he had never seen anything so big crash into the earth, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.
     
    #1 Saren, Apr 9, 2015
    Last edited: Nov 14, 2015
  2. Faster and faster her wings took her, far across the sky. Did something strike her or did she make the mistake on her own? There was a large crash, a bright light, and then nothing. Silence hung in the air and red eyes opened, squinting at the other falling stars in the sky. Why was she watching them? More-so, where was she watching them? A small cough twitched her torso as the dust settled around her, revealing a fresh crater with her in the middle of it.

    She pushed herself up, wincing slightly as her head throbbed in protest and a few drops of blood stained her long golden hair. Hands, check. Feet, check. Nothing broken, right? My head is killing me. She looked down at each limb, making sure they were there before wincing at the sudden pain in one of the large white wings protruding from her back. She couldn't remember anything. "Ahh..." Good. At least my voice is still here. Now, first thing's first, getting out of this hole.

    Knees bent before she kicked off, lifting herself into the air with one large beat of her wings. It didn't work as planned though as pain radiated down through the bones and one wing refused to work as hard as the other, sending her crashing back down into the crater. No, this wasn't happening, she had to fly. Looking like an injured bird, the woman continued to try kicking off, getting a beat or two of her wings in before swirling back down into the damaged earth.

    This wasn't happening, it couldn't be.

    The falling stars ended their journey over this section of the sky, leaving darkness to fall around her. Panic, she couldn't panic. "Deep breaths, you. Come on." She spoke to herself, unable to remember her own name at this point. Lungs filled with the cool night air, pushing it back out slowly before repeating the process. In and out, in and out. With each exhale she could feel the panic seep from her and calm her beating heart.

    "Alright. Let's find the bright side to this, hm? I'm not dead, that's plus! My injuries could be much worse... Oh, and at least I can remember how to talk and such!" The woman tried to be optimistic, a smile forming on her lips as she looked up and around the crater, suddenly spotting something. No, someone. "Hello! You up there! Can you help me? I can't reach the top, can you give me your hand?" She moved over to stand below the figure, squinting and just barely able to make out his features.

    Bare feet stepped onto some of the larger rocks, giving her more height before stretching her hand out to him, hoping he would take it and pull her out. "I think I broke my wing, I'm not able to get out on my own."
     
  3. The last thing he expected to hear was a voice. As he stepped down off the hill, he saw the crater the falling star had created. However, instead of a rock from space, it was completely, save for one thing. A woman was trying to claw her way out of the hole her descent had created. He could only assume she had made it, since she was the only thing crawling from the non existent wreckage. She wanted his help, and while he was tall, he wasn't the strongest of men. Judging by her slight appearance, she didn't appear too heavy, and he stooped to one knee. Taking her outstretched hand, he pulled back, lifting the woman from the hole.

    Once she was on her feet and away from her earthy prison, he stepped back, brushing off his pants. It was then he noticed the white feathers floating away from her back and into the hole. She had mentioned her wing being broken, but he hadn't registered her words until that very moment. "You are... What are you?" he asked. He could have sworn she was an angel, or at least ones from ancient stories and legends. He had never seen one, despite all his knowledge, so he couldn't assess what she really was.

    More importantly, why had she fallen from grace and landed on the ground? Angels didn't always do that, and if they did, they were supposedly evil and selfish. Some would have said the same about him once upon a time, but those days were long gone. "Do you have a name?"

    A chilly wind bit at his face, but his body was protected by a leather jacket. The winged woman in front of him was not so lucky. She had fallen from the sky, but he was suddenly unsure if he should meddle in her affairs. If her wing was really broken, she wouldn't make it very far. Though time had caused his heart to turn colder than the wind around them, he couldn't just... leave her there. "Take this." He shrugged off his jacket and held it out to her.
     
  4. Bare feet scrambled and kicked against the rocks as some gave way under her slightly while the nameless woman tried to climb out with the man's help. She had finally made it over and sat on her knees for a moment, wincing from the pain in not only her broken wing but also feet that had gotten cut up from the rocks. Not to mention her pounding headache as well as she tried to think harder on what her situation was and how she had gotten here. She finally stood, carnelian eyes looking up at the man curiously now that she had a closer look and could better make out his features.

    He was asking her questions before she could even do that same, and realized she had no answers. Wings tucked close to her back to make room as she slipped on the jacket, leaving onto the very tips of her wings to stick out from underneath. It hurt though having her wing tucked in but it was cold and in her clothing she wouldn't fair well without a jacket. "Thank you for the cover. I'm not sure on both questions really, I'm sorry."

    The strange winged woman managed a smile either way and shrugged. "It seems I hit my head on my way down, I can't remember much of anything. Did you see where I came from?" She was already turning away from him, stumbling a bit as her body protested in the sudden movements after such an impact. A pale hand reached up to rub some of the blood away from her eyelid as it came from a cut on her head. She turned it up towards the sky, squinting at it as though it would have the answers. She fell out of it, why couldn't the answers as well?

    Of course no answers seemed to come to her and she turned back to face him, though looked down at her cut up feet from the climb out. "I should probably get something to cover my feet as well, if I'm not going to be flying for a while. One thing I do know is it seems I'm not a fan of being grounded for too long."
     
  5. She didn't know she had fallen from the sky, and he didn't know if that was just stupid or impressive. Either way, she was grounded now, especially with her wing crumpled the way it was. There was no way she could fly for at least a few weeks, maybe longer. She was like a baby bird, but the nest she'd fallen from was much higher than any tree. He wasn't equipped to handle such a person, but she had nowhere to go. He held back his sigh, looking her over for more damage. It was then that she stumbled, but he wasn't fast enough to catch her. Even in the pale moonlight, he saw the red-tinted stain on her hand. She wouldn't last long if he left her standing there.

    ...Besides, she had his jacket, and he'd become rather attached to it even if he didn't like human clothing.

    "Follow me," was all he said. He could have carried her, but he needed to really assess the damage the fall had done to her. Her broken wing seemed to be the worst of it, but if she was bleeding from her head, it was possible she had more serious damage. "My home is not far from here. If you find yourself unable to walk, tell me." With that, he picked up his pace and began the trek back to his home. He had made the trips so often that his feet knew where to step even before he did. This winged woman would have more trouble, and he managed to slow down to a gait where she could keep up with him. At least if she fell behind, she would be easy to spot with her bright, blonde hair and feathery wings.
     
  6. The woman seemed all too trusting, whether it was from stupidity or just optimism would be for them to find out later. She nodded and followed after him, wincing as her feet became even more raw during the walk. "Ah, wait!" She stepped over to a nearby tree, grabbing onto the branch and trying to pull herself up. Despite her size she seemed strong enough to pull herself so her arms and torso were resting on the branch, reaching forward to grab a handful of leaves and drop back to the ground. "Ah!" Her feet protested from the sudden impact and she fell down into a sitting position, but it didn't stop her plan. Each leaf had been pressed to the wounds on her feet, forming a sort of barrier between them and the ground.

    She stood up and tested the leaves, only a few coming off with her steps. The nameless woman followed after her new helper. "There! All better." She continued to walk, only staggering over a rock or random obstacle every now and then. "So where is this place? Nothing seems familiar and you're dressed strangely. Or is that normal? Wait, I'm confusing myself. Ow..." She reached up and held her head as they walked, trying to remember anything made her head pound. She couldn't remember much, but had feelings of things that just seemed off. His clothes for one, or the fact that he didn't have wings. Where she came from was it not normal? "I don't know my name, but can I know yours?"
     
  7. He stopped every so often as he heard her whimper. Her feet had to be more cut than he'd initially seen, but they couldn't really fix them out in the middle of the trees. Finally, she called for him to stop completely, and he did, turning to look back at her. Her antics seemed strange, and he didn't try to help her up as she descended from the tree in a rather painful manner. Whatever issue had with her feet, she fixed with the leaves, which served as a temporary shield between the twig covered ground and her skin. She popped back up and spouted questions, only furthering the notion that she couldn't remember anything.

    "Leon." The answer was short and to the point, as if he didn't want to talk. She had done enough talking for the both of them in the span of thirty seconds than he ever could. Besides, there wasn't anything he could ask her. He knew where she was from, and there was no name she could give him. He could have tried to answer her questions, but then she might have been more confused. With a head wound, she was better off resting, not inquiring about things so quickly that she would run her lips off.

    He remained quiet until he could see the glinting windows of his home. He hadn't left any lights on, which made the whole building a touch eerie, but he wasted no time in getting to the door. Pushing it open, he allowed his winged guest to step inside before flicking a light on. The back door he'd opened led into his kitchen, and it was a modest area painted with light blue walls, and dark colored, wood furniture. It was adorned with few decorations, but the atmosphere was light, as if Leon had tried to make good memories inside the space.

    "Sit," he said, pulling out of the chairs and pointing to the seat. Ducking under the bar counter, he came back up with a first aid kit. It was pristine and untouched, like he had never hurt himself in the history of living there.

    He pulled a second chair in front of the first one, taking a seat so he was facing her. "Let me see your feet," he said as he popped open the first aid kit.
     
  8. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Mister Leon. Thank you for helping me.” She smiled as she followed after him, sighing at the sight of the house and the idea of being able to rest her aching feet. He hadn’t answered her questions though and she couldn’t help but look up at the sky again as he opened the door. She remained like that until she realized he was holding the door open for her and she quickly stepped inside, trying to be careful to not leave a mess on the floor. There was only so much to be done, however, and she left a small trail of bloody footprints to the chair she was told to sit in.

    Eyes watched the kit curiously until it was opened, and she leaned forward a bit to try to peer inside. “Oh! So you do speak more than one worded sentences.” She replied with a grin as she lifted a foot for him to take care of. The leaves were removed and showed the real damage now that they were in the light.

    The foot she was showing had a long gash on it, likely from when she was trying to climb out of the crater, along with a few rocks and splinters stuck in the skin. Upon closer inspection one might notice the softness of her feet along with the dainty size. She wasn't meant for walking long distances, which may explain the lack of shoes, and wherever she was from it would seem she would have no need for them.

    The jacket was restricting her wings, causing the broken one to ache even more. Finally she slipped her arms out of the jacket with a slight whimper, gathering it up in her arms as one wing stretched out and the other lay outward and limp. She hugged the jacket to her chest tightly, as if to use it as some form of security blanket. “What happened to me, Mister Leon? I don’t remember anything aside from falling… And seeing stars.”
     
  9. Peeling back the leaves, he dropped the bloody plants to the ground, reminding himself that he would need to clean the floor when it wasn't midnight. Doing so revealed the gash on the bottom of her foot, and it was still oozing blood at a slow pace. Picking out the disinfecting cloth, Leon wrapped the damp fabric around her foot. The medicine would sting, but it was better than allowing the dirt to slip inside her wound and cause more problems.

    Her feet were small and soft, like they'd hardly faced the elements. It was obvious she used her wings far more than she used her legs. A pang of jealousy struck through him then; she could fly with ease, and he would never know the feeling ever again.

    Her quiet words brought him from his thoughts, though he found his hands worked on their own accord to wrap her foot up in gauze. He looked up to see her clinging to his jacket like a lifeline. Well, it didn't seem like he would be getting that garment back. "You fell from the sky," he replied. He said it as though it was a hard fact and not up for discussion. "There was a meteor shower, but you landed here on the ground. I do not know why or how." He pulled the gauze tight and tucked the loose end under another fold so it would hold.

    "Other one," he said with an upward flick of his hand as he released her foot. "And you said your wing was broken, yes?"
     
    #9 Saren, Apr 15, 2015
    Last edited: Apr 16, 2015
  10. The nameless woman watched him curiously as he tended to her foot, blonde strands falling in her face yet she paid no mind. Her eyes fell to the ground and she noted the mess, she had made bloody prints mixed with dirt leading all the way up to her. Her eyes quickly started darting around the kitchen to find something before she buried her face in the jacket at his response. "That didn't answer any of my questions, you just reworded them differently." She groaned, trying her hardest to remember.

    The broken wing twitched slightly as he mentioned it and she nodded, remaining hidden in the garment. "Mhm. It really hurts." Her voice was muffled now and she sounded a little distracted, trying to remember anything she possibly could. She was falling during a meteor shower... Could that hold some sort of significance?

    Her head was hurting again but she pushed past it in an attempt to remember, lifting her other foot as she was told and setting it in his hands. After he had finished with it she looked back up at him, tilting her head slightly. "Maybe... I'm a star? I mean, I fell with them right? That could make sense!" She sat up straighter after that, face beaming with hope-- any kind of answer, no matter how ridiculous, was good enough for her it would seem. "Oh! Or maybe I got hit by one! But... That still wouldn't explain why who I am, or I guess what I am... You don't have wings, I feel like it's normal here so I can't help but wonder if I'm the odd one out."
     
  11. "No, I simply--" He broke off and sighed instead, wrapping her other foot in gauze and a long bandage. Now that she was patched up in that area, he scanned the rest of her for injuries. Her head didn't seem to be an issue, but blood still oozed from the wound. Her long hair was matted with spots of darkness where blood had stained her locks. He didn't think she was a star, but she had fallen with the rest of the meteors. That, and he'd learned not to judge based on appearance alone. There were many things in the world that he'd seen, but this one was new.

    He nearly flinched at her comment on his lack of wings. Too many years had passed since he'd had those, but not a day went by that he didn't miss them. With a slight shake of his head, he scooted his chair closer to her. "Hold still," he ordered, dragging the first aid kit across the table. He dipped another part of his rag in disinfectant, bringing it to the small head wound buried under her hair. Taking a fistful of the blond strands, he parted her hair and began to clean her injury.

    "You said you don't remember your name?" he asked. "Would you like to be called something? I suppose I can't keep referring to you as... well, you."
     
  12. Called something? "You mean pick my own name?" She scrunched her nose at the thought. If only she could remember her own, picking out a name for herself was harder the more she thought about it. "There is so much in a name, isn't there? Is it right for me to pick out my own?" She gasped sharply when the antiseptic mixed into the wound on her head, jolting her head back slightly but stopping when she realized her hair was in his hand and would probably just hurt more if she pulled back to far-- even if it would be an accident. She closed her eyes tightly, bracing herself for more of the cleaning.

    "I don't know what I would call myself..." She trailed off before her eyes flew open, a smile on her face as she reached up to grab at his arm. "I know! How about you name me?! You are the one who found me after all, and then you can help me find out who I am until I remember!" She spoke as if he were simply going to accept the fact that she would be staying near him, and truthfully it seemed Leon had gotten himself pulled into more than a show of falling stars. Now it seemed he had one sitting in his house.

    "You'll help me, right Mister Leon? I don't know what else I'll do, I don't even know where I am." She continued to smile, not seeming to let go of his hand until he gave her an answer and a name.
     
  13. "Well, I don't think there's anything wrong with picking out a name," he started to explain, wiping away the last of the blood even as she tried to pull away. He had treated wounds far worse, and compared to those, this was nothing. However, she seemed eager to undo his work as she sprang up with new life and gripped his arm. She wanted his help, and he wasn't really in a position to say no. He'd allowed her into his house and fixed her up, so he couldn't very well throw her out. He opened his mouth to argue, figured anything he said would prove to be fruitless, and promptly closed his mouth. He set the rag on the table and moved to face her injured wing, even with her clinging to his arm.


    "I suppose I could give you a name," he said, free hand running along the bones in her wing. He felt one that was out of place, but it proved to be several more as he inspected further. He was silent as he did so, trying to pinpoint the solution to this feathery problem. He couldn't take her to a veterinarian, since they would question why he was in possession of a young woman with wings. Magic was becoming increasingly uncommon, and the amount of attention the little star woman would get would be too much.

    "Starling," he said before he could stop himself. Little star. It seemed fitting, since stars were vast things and she was not. "If that suits you, then that is your new name. Now, you need to relax your wing. You displaced your bone when you fell, and I'm going to set it. It will hurt, alright?"
     
  14. The woman released his arm as he stood, cranny her neck slightly so she could look over her shoulder and watch him examine her wing. Pain radiated up it as he touched at the aching bones. She hugged the jacket to her tightly, burying her face in it once more as she tried to keep her wing still. The large wing still twitched away from his touch at times, only seeming to make it hurt even more and get a whimper out of her.

    Starling.

    Her head perked up and she looked over her shoulder once again. "Starling... I like it." Now with a name, Starling smiled happily at him, though it faltered as he spoke of setting the bone. "Have you set broken wings before? I really don't want it damaged further, I don't know if I'd even want to live if I can't fly again."
     
  15. Leon glanced at her, but her fear was infectious. It had been years since he'd tried to set a displaced bone, but he was running out of options. He could have bound her feathery extremity and left it, but it would heal improperly if he did so. Releasing her wing, he leaned back in his chair, glancing up at the ceiling. Of all the things he could have run into on this night, it had to be a winged woman with amnesia, especially one who could voice all of his own fears and weaknesses. Too much time had passed since he'd felt true wind on his face. Now, like he, Starling had taken her flight for granted now that she couldn't lift herself into the air.

    "It's been a while," he admitted. He didn't have to tell her exactly how many decades it had been. "I may be able to contact someone who can help. For now, it's best we bind your wing so the bones don't move any more than they should. That, at least, is something I can do. It's still going to hurt." Reaching forward, he grabbed the roll of bandages from the kit and unraveled the end.
     
  16. His admittance made her wings twitch, moving close to her back as if to shy away from him. How long had it been since he did this? Sure, Starling was trying to be optimistic, but these were her wings they were talking about! She chewed on her lip and relaxed her wings once he spoke of getting someone else who hopefully had more skill. "Alright... You can bind it for now." She closed her eyes tightly, however, still worried about how much it was going to hurt. "J-Just be careful, I can't lose my wing." Her voice was almost a whisper at that point, clinging to the jacket as if it were a lifeline. The bandages were picked up by Leon and she held her breath.

    Forcing herself to stay still, Starling clenched almost every bone in her body and braced herself for the pain that was to come.
     
  17. There was another moment of hesitation, but if he didn't fix it then, there was the possibility of more pain during the night. Leon unrolled the bandage and placed the end lower on her wing where the pressure wouldn't hurt as much. Carefully, he began to wind the bandage up around her feathery wing. The higher he went, the worse the pain got, but he was silent as he worked. He couldn't hold her wing in place, so he had to slow if she twitched or moved. The process took longer than he would have liked, but he didn't complain. He knew a thing or two about wanting to fly and being unable to do so.

    Once he was done, he leaned back in his chair and inspected his handiwork. He wasn't the best, but his attempt hadn't been as sloppy as he thought it might be. She wouldn't be able to bend the injured wing for quite some time, but it would be better.

    "Try not to move quickly, or you might hurt yourself," he said as he stood up. Putting the aid supplies away, he continued, "I suppose you can stay here until your wing is better. You can't really go anywhere else." Her home was in the sky, not here, but he had no idea on how to get her back there. Her wing would have to be fully healed to even think about going back up, but he didn't really know what 'up' entailed.

    He stifled a sigh; it was too late in the night to be thinking on such things. "Follow me," he said, walking down a short hall and turning a corner to reveal one of his spare rooms. It was painted a simple light blue with white furniture and a few paintings on the wall. It didn't look like it had been used in months, given the layer of dust on top of the dressers. "You can sleep in here for the night. I'll see what I can do about your wing tomorrow."
     
  18. Starling held her breath as the bandage began to wrap around her wing. It was constricting, she hated the feeling, even worse was the pain that came with it. Whimpers broke from her throat along with the occasional hiss of pain as she struggled to keep her wing still. The pain was just too much at times though and it left her trembling all over, at one point she kicked her heels repeatedly against the chair while clinging to his jacket for dear life when the bandages tightened around the crack in her bones.

    He was done and had sat back, leaving her to look over her shoulder and inspect the wing. She couldn't bend it andit caused it to lay limp, soft milk colored feathers brushing along the ground. Despite the pain that throbbed around the wound, it still felt better than without and she gave Leon a smile. "Thank you."

    Gingerly, Starling stood from the chair, her healthy wing tucked closely against her back while the other one dragged slightly behind her. He was going to let her stay here? She smiled brightly and nodded to him before following after him. The sigh made her wonder if he was thinking of her as a burden, but when she saw the room all thoughts vanished and she dropped the jack to hug him without warning. "Thank you so much, Mister Leon! You are such a kind man, I have to do something to repay you!" She released him then, looking around the room a moment. Her feet still hurt from the walking but it didn't stop her, looking over everything as if to try to remember. At least she knew what they were, so she couldn't be that different from him right?

    Either way, she felt exhaustion take over and she wanted nothing more than to collapse on the bed and fall asleep. No, she had to do something to make up for what he had done. She suddenly stopped and looked down at her bandaged feet before gasping as an idea struck her. "I know!" Without anymore explanation she moved past him back out of the room, partially limping to the kitchen. There was the sound of running water as she took a rag and wet it, carefully moving to her knees and beginning to scrub up the dirt and blood she has trailed into his home.

    She hummed a tune as she set to work, taking her mind off the aching wing that rested against the ground. The tune wasn't like one Leon heard, though by the slow notes it was probably a lullaby of sorts. Maybe humming a lullaby to herself was a bad idea, her eyes were growing heavy as she worked, but she continued either way with nothing but a rag and a smile.
     
  19. Few things prepared Leon for hugs, and the current situation was not one of those things. The rustle of his jacket hitting the floor was the only indication he got that she was moving before her arms encircled him. He nearly jerked away, keeping himself still out of slight fear that he might damage her wing further. She was grateful, and that earned her a nod from him. However, she somehow thought that she could repay him in that very moment. "I don't think--" Starling cut him off as she bounded away, knowing what she was going to do to help. In her state, she shouldn't have been moving as fast as she was, but there she went, darting down the hall anyway.

    Leon followed her, seeing her kneel to the ground with the towel he normally kept by the sink. She was mopping up the blood and dirt tracked in from her feet. However, her motions were sluggish as her hands slid along the ground. She was humming something soft and sweet in a melody he'd never heard. However, her gentle voice was the least of his concerns. If he was going to take care of her, he figured he had to do it right.

    Getting down on a knee beside her, the man reached out and touched her shoulder. "Perhaps this might be better left for tomorrow. When you've rested, you'll have more time and energy." He certainly didn't mind the head start he was getting on the cleaning, but he kept quiet about that. It was better if she rested and regained strength, not worried about the state of his kitchen tile.
     
  20. Starling continued to scrub away, her movements slowing down over time as her body started to feel heavy. She felt a hand on her shoulder and blinked the exhaustion from her eyes a few times before looking up at Leon and covering it with a smile. "I'm fine, really. You also said you'd take me to see a friend tomorrow so I don't want to hold it off by cleaning it in the morning or making you have to do it." She looked back to the dirty tile and began scrubbing once more, not taking no for an answer.

    Her hands continued with their work for a few seconds before she felt her head pulsing with pain, causing her to sway slightly. Everything was going tunnel vision and her hands looked at though they were moving farther away from her. Wait no, they were getting closer now... And so was the ground. She slumped forward and fell onto the floor, her eyes barely open. Starling mumbled something and continued to cling to the rag but otherwise didn't move. Thankfully she hadn't landed on her wing, the good one still tucked close to her back.
     
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