the firestarters always get the burns
and the good guys never get the girl
She doesn't know how she got back here, but the morning light was never - this - bright before. Lying on the lake shore, where the river and lake become one, she watches the small waves lap at the pebbles. They're bright - she quints her eyes. Way, way too bright. Her head feels like bursting, she feels dried out but the mere idea of drinking more than a few laps of water disgusts her and almost upsets her stomach. What the hell? What happened?
She remembers venturing out to the river, but after that... all is vague. Completely blacked out, she doesn't even know what she did to black out at all.
But perhaps that's for the best. Things she's said, things she's done... she wouldn't want to know. Really, she wouldn't.
She attempts a stand, but after some dizziness overcomes her head, she decides against it. Instead, she laps up a bit of the water, and shudders her wi - wait. What?
Her breathing is fast as she tries not to look back, but does so anyway. "WHAT?" Regret, immediate regret - her head doesn't like her echoing sound, and she grunts a little. White feathers spread across her back, loose white feathers. They're gone. GONE! She can't live with that, she can't!
Unaware of the sunlight-made appendages that she cannot feel, that do not have weight and more importantly, are reflecting just as much sunlight as the lake, the snow, and the sky, she buries her head under a foreleg in attempt to sleep and make this bad dream go all away.
This is one hungover Ilma, as a result from the river thread. And whose wings have just been magically replaced by sunshine wings. Which means.... hey pssht @[Svedka], want a feather? She’s got spares (:.