Birds of a Feather 73 Winter, 510 AV Location: Wilderness just outside Ravok Aello was walking through the forest. She had gotten up not long before, as soon as the sun had risen and shone through the barren tree branches, illuminating her face, and causing her eyes to sting, and reluctantly open from a deep slumber. She was holding her bow tightly in her right hand, while her bag and quiver rested against her back, bumping against it from time to time with each of her swift steps. Aello's mind was rather empty, and she felt strangely care-free despite everything that had happened to her of late. Despite the fact that the scratch marks the wolf had left upon her skin were still bright red, and appeared as though they would take quite some time to heal, and her clothes were still a tattered mess that hung loosely from her thin hourglass frame. Logistically speaking, she should be trying to heal her wounds, and keep them from becoming infected, or at least, busy getting herself a new set of clothes so she wouldn't spend the entire day shivering. But no, for whatever reason, all that seemed to be in-between her ears, was thin air. As Aello skipped along, she came to a small clearing in-between a number of rather large, gnarled maple trees. The trees were so tall that they seemed to touch the sky, and their bare branches intertwined from time to time as they reached upwards, towards the sun. The closer and closer Aello came to the center of the clearing, the more aware she became of the fact that she was no longer alone. Resting in the middle of the clearing, on its back, was a small bird. Chirping piteously. As Aello drew closer to it, she realized that it had a broken wing and small cut across its leg. Its wings were folded out and away from its body, and twisted in such a way, that it gave the appearance of a bird trying to imitate a human putting their hand on their hips. Its beak was small, and yellow on the bottom, but black on the top. The bird had beady black eyes which seemed to display the greatest sense of distress, causing Aello's heart to melt, and for her to pity it tremendously. The white and tan feathers on its belly were matted with splotches of drying crimson blood, while the mixture of brown, black and white feathers of its wings appeared to be bathed in it. Entire feathers appeared to have been torn away, as though some larger animal had tried to eat it, but thinking better of it, spat it back out. A small tuft of golden-colored feathers rested atop the bird's head, reminding Aello of a crown. The bird was rather small, and with its wings spread out entirely, wasn't much larger than the span of Aello's hand. The bird chirped sadly again, its right wing trembling as a gust of wind swept through the clearing, blowing one of its loose feathers away, swirling on the ethereal winds, which still managed to appear almost tangible. Aello bent down to get a closer look at the bird. Its wing was definitely broken, and if it was not set in some sort of cast or something, the bird would more than likely, never be healed. The Sparrow :
Just imagine this more injured-like.
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