Aimil sat silently within the trees that grew wild outside the hall of the gods. Her kin were inside, meeting about something they had deemed important.

Aimil could find no desire in her heart to join them. She sat among the trees here instead, absently fiddling with a blade of grass.

She felt odd.

She knew she looked different than she once had. Her leather armor was rough and worn. Her hair hung loose. There was a faded quality to her existence, a haze through which she watched things now as her forest dwindled.

In the distance, Aimil saw one of her fellow gods leave the hall. She watched as they approached.

“Have you come to drag me inside?” She asked, stifling a yawn. “I’m sorry—I can’t bring myself to care. Not anymore. Say what you will. It won't make me come back in."