When an angel is far from the grasp of heaven, she too loses her grasp on it. Her wings begin to degrade with each passing day, as if it was being singed off slowly. Her halo begins to lose its light, fading from a starting point all the way around to the end.
This upset her to no end as she spread her wings, hovering above the lava pit. Peering at the ends of the feathers she gave a heavy sigh before looking above and realizing how far she had fallen. She just wanted to feel the thrill of flight again, and this was as good a spot as any.
It was private, away from the disgusting gremlins that roamed the entire kingdom of the underworld. She looked behind her at the statues that rest underneath the deck she leapt from, acting as pillars of support carrying the entire room on their backs, and with two powerful beats she was on the small platform beneath the feet of the gargantuan statue.
There she hid between the feet, tucked away from everything else, wrapping her knees with her arms and cocooning herself with her wings. In her hand, a ring of golden light large enough to fit her head materialized.
She watched the light of her halo pulsate along with her heart, a small section of it already gray; a reminder that no matter how hard she grips the large ring, she continues to slip farther away from her home. And that small section only grows larger everyday.