Becca Angstadt
Creative Writing
March 7, 2012
I slowly come into consciousness then rolled upright as soon as my exhausted body allowed it. Although there was never any pain in this state, there were still some necessary things, sleep being one of them. I rolled my mismatched eyes down towards the arm that had been shattered during the collection of the last feather. The splint I had made had not shifted yet, excellent. Sleeping outside could not have been good for the arm but it would not hinder my collection of the memory feathers. My master would contact me soon and my arm could be healed then, along with any other injuries I might acquire in the meantime.
A chunk of my thick brown hair fell in front of my blue eye, my new one. Only slightly annoyed, as I rarely felt any strong emotions and certainly never showed them, I jerked my head, flicking the hair back. Soon I shall get a knife for cutting small things like hair.
I had collected the only memory feather on this world last night, and now I am required to move on. I should have gone last night but I even I must rest sometimes. My master had it arranged so that I may manipulate the fabric of worlds myself, not requiring him to do anything but sit and watch his best pawn do its task, and do my task I must as here on the new world the power of the feather is very, very strong.