'Falling is just like flying except there's a more permanent destination.' I told myself, over and over. My brown hair flowed elegantly behind me in the harsh winds. I'd use my wings to fly back home but there's no use, I won't be able to get back in if I tried. I was sent for a reason so I have to stay for another. The wind left a ringing noise in my ears. The sky had turned into a pinky-orange. It was sunrise, anyone could see me drop from the clouds and into the midst of the city.
Plummeting toward a concrete street is never a good way to start the day. I pull my arms into my chest and draw my wings into my back so that they're not visible to others. If I die, this'll probably hit the headlines as: Suicide of Girl in White. Because that's what I am, a girl and I am in white. Or rather: Beyaz Kızın Intihar. Because our scene is set in Turkey.
Closing my eyes and waiting for the hardness of the ground to hit me, I was oblivious that I had been knocked into a sharp right turn and heading for the nearby Forest clearing. Great. Not my destination. A longer amount of time than anticipated on Earth.
Although I couldn't see the trees, I could smell them. They were tall and had about 2'3" of white medicine painted on their trunks, keeping the bad insects away. I was in Tarsus. My right shoulder was the first to hit the ground and the initial pain jolted through me at once, making me wince. I clicked my shoulder quickly and knelt, trying to forget the pain. The grass smelt fresh and the few trees gave me little cover. I wouldn't be able to check my wings. Or would I?
The road near-by was clear and the only person around as far as I could see was a man who'd fallen asleep whilst feeding the pigeons. No threats detected.