Zephyra had forgotten the main task of her life for the moment as she stalled everything to take care of all of the remains of the home she once adored and lived in.
She had started at the entrance gates to the city where the tattered remains of her family's crest designed in stones on the ground was littered with the bones of her people. Carefully, she picked each fragment up and laid them out respectfully in neat rows. With how much time had passed, and how badly she sun had bleached them, it would be impossible now to tell whose belonged to which other piece of themselves. So, she had to settle with a mass grave that she dug with her bare hands, and the use of her sword to carve out perfect rectangles.
Her fingernails bent backwards and pulled at the skin underneath them - a few even snapped off in the process as her talons got caught in vines and struck against clumps of rocks. Even as the wounds opened and compacted with dirt, not once did she cease her plans.
