She fell to earth; a flutter of wings and a loud crash. No broken bones. She wasn’t like the weak ones her brothers bowed their knees to. She was also no longer like her brothers. The spiritual light which which eminated from her no longer played with the physical elements like the wind. Daily she could feel herself becoming just a little less like her, and little more like them. She sighed and took another leap, soaring into the sky, her wings caught an updraft and held her. How long she would last like this, she did not know. Her wings were not strong enough to take her higher.

The clockwork gears inside her were rusted, slowing her movements. Her long slender wings no longer held her in the air, if they ever did. There were long periods of her life she could not remember, as if she had been shut off for days at a time. She felt broken and what stood in front of her, leaping in the air time after time, was perfection. If perfection could exist, maybe it could fix her. Or maybe broken toys can’t be fixed.