Kassandra Dark

*as you visit the grave of a departed friend for the third time this week, you feel the air rush From behind you, and the sound of great wings flapping slowly fills your ears. as the sound subsides, a gentle yet firm voice speaks to the* I can feel how much you miss them. . . and I could feel how much they cared for you as I took them to the next life. . . they sent me with a message, if you want to hear it. . .