With her nose high in the air, the pastel lop walked through the forest, casting glances at the surroundings. Oh yes, she was /so/ much more gorgeous then /anything/ in the vicinity! Dead plants, patches of green among the brown grass, trees barren and without any leaves, littered the area. Too blind, was she, by her own vanity to see the true beauty of the time of rebirth and rejuvenation.
Hopping to a nice little area, she decided she might as well stop for a moment, to give herself a good grooming -- something she did constantly. After all, as impossible as it was for her to /ever/ look bad, she still had to at least make it /look/ like she had to make an effort.
Romulus hadn't been in this place very long, but so far he couldn't find anything wrong with it. He had decided to finally settle down for a little while, stop his exploring to rest while the spring air flowed in and the flowers began to grow. The brown and white male sat below a still dead tree, the ground beneath him dry as the dead grass desperately tried to regrow from the winter's death hold. He took a breath, his large wings folded on his back. 
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