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Summary: River and butterflies.
Author's Note: This was written in ten minutes early in the morning after a dream and was originally meant for another fandom.
She watches as the butterfly opens and closes its wings. She admires its beauty as she studies all the colors that she can see on its wings, all the blues, reds, yellows and greens. She looks at it's funny little body and it's strange looking head and tries to remember if she has ever seen anything similar in her travels and as is usual on days like today, can only come up with food, today she thinks of that long forgotten earth delicacy the hot-dog and tries to remember the last time she had one, if she ever did, let alone ate. She watches as the butterfly tries to walk around trying to find its own food source, but she knows that there is nothing for miles, as there are no flowers here. She wishes that she could become a butterfly, so that she could fly above the others without a care in the world, be free with no-one to worry about her, but she knows that won't happen. So she does the only thing she can. She crushes the butterfly before it can remind her of the men following her, of the men with blue hands and the others that aim to put her in harms way. And as she watches the butterfly writhing in pain as it desperately tries to take flight, to escape and find a place to hide, she knows she has killed beauty, but she also knows a new butterfly will come tomorrow. And the cycle can begin again.