She knows not of demons, nor of any true angels, besides those that claim it for a red patch upon their fur. Still, she had been born without such a mark and thus, she had never gained her wings in her father's eyes - perhaps he tried to hide it, but she is ever so observant. She often found herself wondering why it mattered and if it truly ever did. Did being a demon matter? Did being an angel change a thing? Would anybody speak an ill word of her if she only wished to be normal, or something (or someone) of her own creation? Was it odd to wish for normality when every other child her age craved uniqueness and prestige? Perhaps she was more like the stars than she could have ever have hoped for, content to glow with so many others and content to glow just the same brilliant white light - nothing more, nothing less. It was blasphemy on her blood, that much she was sure.
It was a pleasant sort of loneliness on the edge of the crags, the maw of winter having silenced each creature in the forest. In the distance, at times, she could hear the cries of foxes, the shrill call of a hawk. Why did she not stay in such a place more often? Why was it expected of her to surround herself in others like herself? Could she survive alone? It seemed the longer she sat in the company of herself, the heavier her thoughts became. She thought, perhaps, her own mind would become so heavy, she may very well sink to the core of the earth - until that sound broke the silence, and she called for it.
The voice that replied was not what she expected - a gruff, growling thing that made her turn to seek out the owner of such a voice. Owl-yellow eyes searched, unable to decipher the dark creature's form from the shadows that encompassed the area. It seemed the moon was not strong enough to pull her from the darkness, but even so, her curiosity remained.
"What others say is of little consequence."
She called back to the unknown female, her voice still shrill with the echo of innocence as she rose to her paws. Slowly, she began to pace forward until she could once more hear the footsteps of the other, and her ragged breath in the silence of the trees. Again, she tried to pull the dark one from the shadows, her own form remaining illuminated silver against the backdrop - it was to no avail, and she could fast hear the other leaving. Why did she do so? Why did she believe it needed?
"I would like to..."
She called out once more, lifting her voice before it died off immediately into the background. She paused, an ear flickering forward as she spoke quieter this time, the hope in her voice waning. Alone, always alone.
"...to know who you are."
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