Most had called you the Guardian Angel of the 100th bomb group. You weren’t fully human, but every man and woman from the air-force still accepted you as one. You had been adorned with silk-like wings sprouting from your back. The wings are like those of a bird, yet larger and more majestic with soft feathers covering them.

You were a navigator and an observer for the air-force, being of use as you flew against the wind currents, shifting through greater heights ahead of the planes when going out on missions so you could tell them what was beyond the clouds, if any danger lurked for the pilots. You were the light in a pilot’s life, more so the whole crew. None were ever worried when you were there with them.

Bracing for the ground, you adjust to slow down and with gentle flaps, landing on the runway. Your wings fold neatly against your back and you turn your gaze back to the sky, waiting for the planes to return with you. A sense of calm washes over you, seeing everyone arrive perfectly in-tact and preparing to land.