Levi could only think about one thing: his wings. His wings were gone.

There had been two, feathery wings attached to his back, one a royal blue and one a brilliant white that faded to an almost cream color between washes. Those wings had carried him from the depths of the Underground, carried him into the Survey Corps, and allowed him to soar into battle against the titans.

His wings had been his pride, and now, it was all he could to to place his hand back to the little stubs where his wings had once started, a couple stray feathers left, as if promising a slow rebirth. It hurt beyond words, beyond mere pain. This hurt both inside and out. Without his wings, he felt hysterical, useless, and human.