Snippet #1403129

The childrenn sat down in front of Jonathan.
"Ok. This is the story, of an angel. The angel had been fighting the powers of darkness, and had been gravely hurt.
But a beautiful young came to his rescue, she took him to the other angels.
You see, the demons he'd been fighting had cut off his wings. So he couldn't fly himself.
When the arrived, one of the angels closed the wounds of the angel, but they couldn't give him a new set of wings.
But he could never help the other angels fight again. and he was very sad about that.
He used many hours, wandering about doing nothing, for he'd lost his dearest possesion: his wings.
Then one night, as he lay and looked at the stars, he got an idea. He'd build wings out of stars, and magic.
So he began creating small stars, because angels can do that. and he got the angel woman who'd saved him to make magical thread.
And he worked tirelessly. Both night and day he worked, and at last his wings where done.
But evil was out that day, and when the young angeless should've been home, none came.
Many angels became worried, for she was one of the best healers in all of heaven.
Some went out to search, and they found out, that a demon had killed her."
"No!" the girl exclaimed.
"Yes. She'd been shot with an arrow, and had fallen down from the skies.
And the angel was very sad, for his only real friend was now dead.
But with his new wings, he could again help his fellow angels.
And the day today, he's still seeking out some way avenge the angeless death." Jonathan ended, feeling a part of a heavy burden lift off.

"But it's not good to be mad all the time." the girl said.
"Well, sometimes you really get hurt..." Jonathan tried to explain.