Pure ---FFVIII POV
A solitary white feather flutters freely in the gentle wind Fluttering towards the ground, it, instead, finds itself in the palm of a dark-haired girl. She closes her hand around the fragile feather, as if afraid to harm it. Looking skywards, she turns and opens her closed hands, letting the feather leave her once again.
The pure-white feather contrasts starkly against an angry, dark sky Ignoring the threatening rain, it trembles and flits upwards once more. Below it, the glaring clash of gunblades are heard In that instance, shattering the deafening silence of the storm.