Becky stands up, a tinny sound could be heard if Fran still has the feather on her, suddenly Becky's face falls, she seems to age physically by a hundred years in just a few seconds, her wings droop and her eyes swim in water. "As I recall you left me... a recurring theme here, apparently... You get what you want anyway... I won't follow... I won't do anything... I suppose it is I who have nothing left to live for, hmm?* She says something softly in a long dead language. "Do as you wish... I'm not fighting anymore... I can't..." The tinny sound would get louder, turning into a deep hum, the feather vibrating. "I'm not strong enough anymore... just... not..." The hum would abruptly stop, followed by a soft, musical shattering sound. The feather, wherever it is would break and disappear. "Not strong enough..." She turns, flapping her wings twice before taking off in a whoosh of air, wiping tears from her eyes as she glides north, to a large building with an enormous angel statue on the roof, upon this angel's wings would she perch, allowing herself, only here with the birds, to weep openly.