She sighed; no longer caring that she'd carelessly let her wings tear through the back of the now-dirty white tank top. She glanced around, fairly certain that this wasn't exactly what being a Roamer was supposed to mean. That was to say, when whoever they were had decided to call her class the Roamers, they hadn't actually meant that they roamed around in the middle of nowhere with no clue where they were, how they'd gotten there, or how they would get back.

Thankfully, she hadn't been walking long when she came across a crumby, run-down old gas station that probably only saw the business of hardcore road trippers. There were just two pumps set up, and –as she'd hoped- a payphone just off to the side. She slinked into the store carefully, unsure of whether or not she wanted to be in the presence of someone who would run –or work in- such a place. To her surprise, the elderly man standing behind the counter looked more than kind.

"Excuse me, sir," she said, taking in his warm smile gratefully and with much relief. "I'd like to make a call with the phone booth out there. Could I have change for this…." But as she searched the pockets of her ripped, now-torn-to-the-seams jeans, she couldn't seem to locate that rumpled up old five she specifically remembered shoving in her pocket shortly before whatever had happened to her….happened.

The old man waited patiently, never losing his genuine smile. Then she was caught off guard as she heard a distinct clink! when something hit the floor. She peered down and saw a small metallic circle of silver—a quarter. The old man must have slipped it across the counter purposely during her hunt, because she hardly ever carried around change.

She bent to pick it up, and then gave the man a gracious smile. "Sure thing, Miss," the old man smiled. And she couldn't help but feel an immense amount of love for him and his adorable, light purple aura.

He nodded, the smile still decorating his aged, cracked lips.

She stepped back outside and blinked a few times, then squinted against the sun. Being under those florescent lights, even for such a short time, sure made that ball of gas seem a lot brighter than before. She headed for the payphone and quickly squeezed in and enclosed herself inside the murky, barely translucent glass booth. Then she dropped the quarter into its designated slot, and dialed the only number she could seem to recall at the moment, to her dismay.

"Hello?" answered a deep, sharp voice. It was at that moment that she realized she'd let the old man see her wings.

"Seth Shepard," she gritted accusingly.