Red.
A beautiful colour. One fit for either passion or rage. The colour of her burning eyes; the colour of her boiling anger; and the colour she was going to paint those who had betrayed her.
An orphan who no longer had her siblings to stand by her side; a monster with no leash, no conscious perched on her shoulder.
And yet, she could wreak no revenge from where she now stood, atop one of the tallest building in Manhattan, watching the skies before her and dreaming of a time when she could fly. She could feel the eyes of the fellow tourists on her as she stood, as still as a statue, watching the clouds drift across the near-clear sky.
In the old days, dreaming of flying, the feel of the wind beneath her wings, would have cleared her head; helped her move past her anger, to calm herself. But now, the memory of her wings only fuelled her all consuming rage. If only she could remember how to Shift; how to use her powerful magic; how to get back home. But those things were lost to her, just like the only two people in the world she had ever loved.
All thanks to that fucking Queen.
