Xigbar was wind. He was fast and cold and harsh and warm and empty because there was nothing to him, nothing in him. But he always carried something, some far-off smell or half-heard song or dead leaf, as if such things could complete him and (he knew they couldn't but) he found those things and kept them for a while, then dropped them all at once; one little motion and they were gone, mostly forgotten but never missed.
Xigbar was wind and gales and squalls and breezes, and in all his forms, he was emptyemptyemptier than even the air itself.
A/N - Am I un-grounded yet? No. But I'm online doing homework and, uh, decided to stop by. XD Anyway, I'll probably update tomorrow as well (at some ridiculously late time, no doubt), but if not I'll definitely update this weekend.