wings Headcanon
“They don’t symbolize monsters…”The canary chirped, fluttering about in it’s confines; the cage had been something bought in the marketplace, old but useable. Considering the bird’s small size, it was spacious enough to allow generous movement. Cissnei had taken to watching the orphanage pet on a daily basis, finding solace in the beat of it’s wings and it’s tiny, clipt chirps. Social interaction had never been her strongsuit—the face of her parents had been lost in the fragile memories of an infant, and any encouragement to make friends were dismissed with silence and a shake of her head.This room was her hiding place, a sanctuary. When the matron began to notice her liking to the canary, she promised—"One day, you’re going to leave here. Would you like to let the bird go?" Unfortunately, that day never came—atleast, not for her friend. Boys will boys, and we all know that melody, but- …what they did that day…She had found her yellow friend still in it’s cage, feathers scattered from where they’d been plucked from it’s tiny wings. The matron could only scold the boys, no matter how it all disturbed her—no matter how her efforts to comfort the traumatized the child failed miserably.To understand what it was to trust; to know not everyone was cruel. That was something she failed to learn again until the day a man with a suit and a scar showed at the orphanage, signed a few papers and explained to her she would be going to her new home. Little did she know, that home was Shin-Ra Electric Power Company—her family, the Turks.
