There was a little alcove on the east side of the island there she's taken a liking to. It was quiet, but not completely silent. It feels alive. There's a cool, saltwater breeze that whistles through the lush palm trees, and gently blows at her face. Her hair smells like ocean for the rest of the day. It's the perfect place for morning meditation.

This is the one place she can go to be alone, but not feel lonely. She was still very much an outsider on Themyscira. When she walks through the city she feels awkward and out of place. It's ironic that these beautiful Amazonian women make her feel so old. They're actually thousands of years older than her. Their immortality keeps them young and beautiful forever. She could look like them too if she wanted. Smooth out her skin. Make her face youthful again. But why should she bother? It wouldn't change the fact that she's 164. Almost 55 biologically.

She wonders how long she's going to get away sneaking away to be alone in the mornings. What she's gathered from her first month on Themyscira is that everyone lives on a very set schedule. Not that there wasn't any leisure time. In the afternoon she sees women lounging about on the beaches or strolling arm in arm down the white, cobblestone streets. But there was morning training, which was mandatory for all Themyscirans. Which she supposes she is now since she took up Diana's offer to live here.

She'd never been much of a warrior. Her strength came from her mind, not her body. She had been trained in hand to hand combat, Diana had been one of her early teachers. She could usually hold her own in a typical fight. A fight against the Amazons, who had been training for millennia to show no mercy towards their enemy, was not typical.

The Amazons marveled at her Martian psychic powers. How she could morph into something 10 feet tall with 6 arms, or swing a sword without ever touching it. But put that sword in her hand and she was no match for them. They saw usefulness in her abilities, but didn't respect her in the way they would a skilled fighter. If any of them were to lose their immortality, they would still be able to defend themselves from all their hard training. Without her psychic abilities, she would be weak and powerless. She'd also probably be stuck in her White Martian form, but she tried not to think about that unpleasantry.

So she doesn't fight them much. Or at all really. She left her Miss Martian persona a long time ago. Exchanging it for a quiet, peaceful life as a high school math teacher, and then later a retired high school math teacher. The first time she'd really worked out in decades was the only morning training session she attended. She couldn't keep up. Now, instead of doing morning exercise and practice battle training, she comes here, and meditates.

"Beautiful place to watch the sunrise huh?" Diana stands above her. Looking down, hands on her hips. Somehow M'gann isn't all that surprised she found her little hidey-hole.

"I suppose so."

"Is that why you come here every morning?"

"No."

"Why then?"

M'gann shrugs, "I guess I like the noise."

M'gann is physically older than Diana, but she still thinks of her with reverence and respect. She'd been one of her mentors for so many years. It was hard to think of her as anything else.

Diana is a little different than the other Amazonian women. For one thing, she's much younger, only about 200 years old. She's also the superheroine Wonder Woman, and spends much of her time in "Man's World." She too was immortal, but only on Themyscira. Anytime she ventured off the island, she aged.

She'd spent a lot of time off the island. There were crinkles and crow's feet around her eyes, and her hair was streaked with salt and pepper grey. To M'gann, her age spots only made her seem wiser, not older. Diana made no attempts to hide her age. M'gann suspected was never that important to her. She lived to bring peace and justice to the world. There have been rumors of her retirement for nearly 50 years, and she'd quashed all of them. She'd keep fighting until her dying breath.

"How are you adjusting?"

"Fine ."

"Are you sure? Everyone I've asked says they barely see you."

"I just don't want to train for combat, that's all. Seeing as that's half of what everyone does here – sorry I didn't mean to sound rude."

"It's alright."

"I appreciate the hospitality you and your people have shown me this past month."

"They aren't my people M'gann. They're my sisters. Yours too. When I invited you to Themyscira I intended for it to be your home. Not a temporary place of refuge."

Diana kneels down to speak with her at eye level, "I understand what you must be feeling. The wounds losing loved ones leaves are far more painful than any other kind. It's easier when you have a support system. You don't have to face this alone."

Of the heroes from her time on as Miss Martian, six were still alive. Including herself. They all seemed to have some kind of plan for living so long. A place to go, or a circle of other ageless people to spend the rest of their lives with. Except her. Diana had her beautiful island paradise Themyscira. Icon had perfected the art of reinventing his civilian identity, and had other ageless alien friends. Hawkman and Hawkwoman both returned to their home planet Thanagar. And B'arzz did same with Mars.

Returning to Mars was never an option; no matter how many times B'arzz told her relations between green and white Martians had improved. She still felt too much bitterness and hostility towards Her uncle lived between the two planets, as they were both important facets of his life. Until he became too ill to travel, and died 8 years ago on Earth.

For the longest time Conner had been with her to hold her hand at the funerals of their friends. He was one of the few who lived a longer than human lifespan. I wasn't much longer than human though. He passed away 3 month ago, at 132 years old (or 116, depending on how you look at it). His death seemed to come out of nowhere. He simply fell asleep one night, and didn't wake up the next morning.

"I you Diana, really. But do you think I could have some time here to myself?"

"Of course. We'll talk later. I'll be on the island until tomorrow morning when I must return to The Watchtower."

She starts to walk away, but stops, as though a thought has struck her, "Remember M'gann, you may not have been born on Themyscira, but you've certainly belong here by merit."

M'gann doesn't watch her leave. She faces the shore, the bottommost point of the sun now touching the horizon. The pink and orange light trail leaves dances on the water. She feels it's warming glow on her skin.

She closes her eyes, and breathes in sync with the ebbing and flowing of the waves.