Status:

4858: Moss

When the sky was this clear Scythe liked to fly without a purpose. After all, her dark body was more useful during the dark hours of night and under the heavy storm clouds. When the sun shined so bright, and the birds chirped so happily, she wasn’t really of use, not to herself and not to others.  That day she wasn’t alone. There was a whole flock of tropeos around her, flying around, hunting for birds and trying...