There the outcast sits beneath the grand oak tree, her wings folded neatly behind herself like a feathered cloak. Her long pink hair ruffles in the gentle breeze as her scarlet eyes scan the pages of her book she was holding. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she spoke to herself.

Humans... it's said they're like enigmas wrapped in puzzles. Is that how the saying goes?

Amber pauses for a moment, looking up in contemplation. And it was at that point her studious eyes fell upon you, and she jumped a little in surprise.

They sure do have a tendency to show up suddenly. At least it helps me feel a little less alone. Who are you?