Posca sighed heavily, black eyes closed. She hated running into mortals, for the most part... Most times they ran from her, fearing her affects on the world. That, or they were put off by her broken wings and... the smell. It wasn't her fault that the sickly sweet smell of rotting meat lingered around her constantly.
This time had been no different. She'd happened to appear close to a young female, and she had ran only moments after spotting her. Then again, she was used to a life of solitude. It was probably best anyway. Posca was still terrorfied of accidentally hurting mortals. Ever since she was a young goddess...
A shudder went up her spine. She would not think of that... She couldn't. With a sigh she continued on her walk. At least she might be able to enjoy the scenery... Though it never looked as pretty after she arrived. Black or brown dried grass was never as pretty as bright green or gold.
