It had been days now since the death of her 'big brother' Edge. In the meadows it had been a good day and ended as a nightmare. Edge had came to her in his dying moments. Bleeding and cut nearly from head to toe. And it was in her arms that he died. Besides Icer and Edge only a handful of other people ever acknowledged her..or spoke to her more then few words and actions. Edge was that big brother figure though. He had been family. And it crushed the sylph's heart.

And days past she still moped about the Inn, refusing to return to the glen. And every day she rubbed frantically at her hands as if she where trying to remove the blood that stained her hands. She did blame herself for his death. Unable to do anything or encourage him from the embrace of death itself. Like now..she sat upon the edge of the porch, eyes void of the energy that once was and her hands rubbing at each other in attempts to remove what was unseen.