An attempt to focus

Lately, Zephyer had been hanging out here more than usual. It kept him away from that school with all the annoying people, after all. Talons ripped up dirt from the ground as he went along, arms at his sides. Black hair hung in his face, and unfortunately blocked his sight so that when a rather large root stood in his way, he tripped over it.

The half-crow fell face down in the dirt and grumbled something. "Whyyy..." he whined, sitting up. He looked at the root and pointed at it. "Curse you for making me accident prone!" He needed something to blame... so why not the root?

He stood up and brushed the dirt off of his clothes and feathers, mumbling a few things under his breath. As he went on, though, he overheard a conversation.

"Well I know it's hard to make friends. That much is obvious. So far I've only got you guys.... I don't know that there is any way to focus. You guys are the only reason I can focus."

An eyebrow rose and he bushed through the bushes to get to where the voice was. He looked at the girl and the butterflies, blinking. "Those things talk to you?" he asked. That was odd. Well, unless she was crazy. There were a lot of crazy people at this school.

Zephyer blinked when the other fell to the ground. Somebody needed to work on their concentration! An eyebrow rose somewhat when she told them to leave her alone. "Are they talkative?" he questioned, though he didn't sound too interested.

"... It's horribly annoying."

"Then why don't you just either ignore them or tell them to shut up and leave you alone?" he half asked, half suggested. If it was annoying, then he didn't think it was sensible for her to put up with it.

He looked at her hand, but didn't take it. It would be slightly hard because of the claws. Hopefully she would realize that, but if not, then that wasn't really his problem. "Zephyer Xadrian," he responded with his own name. He blinked when she silenced the butterflies once more. "Do they really love you that much?"

"But I need them."

An eyebrow rose. Butterflies were merely insects, what use could they possibly serve? They were pretty, sure, but Zephyer could see no reason as to how they could be a necessity. "You need them? And why is that?" the young man questioned, not understanding it in the slightest.

"Zephyer, do you spend a great deal of time out here?"

The half-crow had noticed the pause, but he paid no mind to it. He shrugged his feathered shoulders, thinking for just a moment. "I suppose I do," he said. "It's better than that school." Better than that school with far more normal people, indeed. "What about you, Neveah? And how long have you been here?"

"It's simple really. I have no memory of my own..."

It was strange that he was getting into such a conversation with her. Zephyer wasn't usually one for people, especially when they could see him clear as day. He was ashamed of his appearance, of his curse. It got lonely, being on ones own for so long, though. "So, did you get into an accident or something and loose your ability to hold memories?" he asked. Maybe it was a bit rude to pry into her life like that, but Zephyer didn't really care. "Or were you born like that?"

".... And neither do they, since they've only been alive for a few months."

He blinked. So she didn't know how long she had been here, and she needed the butterflies to tell her how long she had been outside. Strange... very strange indeed. "Then what happens when they die?" he asked, suddenly curious. "Do you loose all of your memories from the previous year? Do you have to start over like this every spring and summer?"

If that was the case... then that was very depressing indeed.

"So far as I know I was born like this."

Stranger still. She had been born like this... it was very strange indeed. "That's cool," Zephyer said, lacking anything better to respond with. He was thinking, wondering if it had to do with her powers or some brain problem. Maybe a little bit of both.

The crow listened as she explained the whole thing. She kept her memories in a book, and never recalled what happened during the winter? That was sad. Winter could hold some very happy occasions.... snowball fights, sleigh riding, holidays... it was a shame that it seemed she had never remembered them.

".... I never remember things that happen in the winter, because I have no friends to help me when the butterflies are gone...."

"You don't necessarily need friends to help you know what happens when the butterflies aren't around," Zephyer informed her. "If you have a book where the butterflies help you write your memories, then why not use it as a sort of diary? Write in it every night once the day is done or something. Would that work?" He wondered if her memory was long enough to even last a full day. If not, well, then he didn't really know how to help.