As usual, Ayngel is by the corner she claimed to be hers in the clearing, peacefully tending to the flowers she had planted. It’s a nice day, the suns bright and it’s surprisingly quiet for a day here, though she was admittedly in a fairly secluded place.

Her purple hair has a soft tint to it, her halo glowing and her head wings gently flapping. She didn’t get too much peace and quiet, and she was clearly enjoying just getting to relax herself.