The auburn and brown girl flew through the landscape, her eyes shedding tears. She was a mess, and the wings on her back only supported her immense beauty-as well as her despair. Rayne had wings, just like her love. The man who had broken ties with her, right after she had to see the bodies of their dead children. The heavenly high that had lingered with her for weeks had now gone, leaving the grieving fem nothing, nobody. She was alone in her depression. Rayne hurled herself over the decaying grass, dead, dying, just like her heart. Without a thought, she desperately found a broken branch, and mindlessly propped it up. She took a deep breath, choked with tears and shock, and tensed, ready to barrel forward, to end her life that had been forever poisoned by her mental state.