Wicked sat on a tree branch, looking down at the small animals below her. She was an outcast among her own people, and the loneliness had begun to take its toll on her. Her dark wings hung limp from her back, and she let out a heavy sigh. "This... This is not how I thought my life would be." She whispered to herself. Suddenly, she heard a rustling in the branches below her. "Who's there?" she asked, her voice laced with a bit of fear.