by K.B. Elijah
Red lips in a pale face, puckered in surprise. Tendrils of auburn hair haloing her head as if she dances underwater. Blue eyes wet with the first vestiges of shock, death taking her before it fully formed.
Mortals and their deceptively ephemeral beauty.
I bend, sweeping a crow feather through the bloody entrails of the girl, watching as it glows and blackens. Satisfied, I release my fingers and the feather flies to my back, reinforcing my pitiful wings.
One more necessary sacrifice, one more feather. A thousand more days like this, and I will have enough to fly once more.