Daría observed the other fairies, each one was more beautiful than the last. One of them had green hair, like the leaves of a newly hatched tree. Another of them had it purple, another blue, another a beautiful golden color. She would sigh, the same with her eyes, each one had more beautiful eyes than the previous one and their bodies, perfection. But the most beautiful thing about them was their wings, so beautiful. They sparkled as if they had impregnated diamond dust, and they did.
Daría would have given anything to have wings when she was little she had desperately searched for a way to make wings grow on her back. But it was not possible, she was a muse, a muse, only half-Fae, she had no wings, nor would she ever have them.
She had never been able to think of flying without a terrib
