Swirls of white mist

Part One : Chaos

Her feathers swept through swirls of white mist, as she fluttered with apprehension. Her heart panicked, as her host's departure was near. The chilly gusts persisted with outrage against the outskirts of her delicate vibrant wings, swiftly changing into pale fringes. She attempted to dodge the abrupt bolts of flashes that surrounded her, knowing their only intention was to hinder her last strand of shrivelled hope. Her figure flapped, it followed behind as a shadow reflected off the moon onto the clouds as frail as cotton. Startling the gentle Nightingale, for she has no idea why the sky was so enraged.

She sank through the gloomy dew, drifting closer to her host. The rain battered against the glass window and the wintry weather suffocated its surface. Frantic the Nightingale became, as she struggled to see through the foggy mist. To endure the suspense would be such a burden, for her host was only a few metres through the window. As a shard of glass appeared loose in its place, the Nightingale approached the unsteady hold and nudged her beak aggressively through the crack in desperation. She could see her host giving up. Taking one pill at a time, again and again, crying in anguish as she struggles to swallow the bitter taste. Her host winced in discomfort, as it scraped her throat, gradually stealing the motion from her intact heart.