The city was asleep. There were very few mortals among those who roamed in the night. Xiyla rather liked to watch them, sometimes from a distance, other times talking to one of them. Though she could sense them, she rarely associated with anyone else; there would be times when she would encounter one of the dead, but that was it.

Sitting upon the roof top of a old, three-story building, Xiyla quietly watched people in the coffee shop across the street. The child sat behind a lamp hanging from where the wall and roof met, keeping well in the darkness. The cold night was kept away by a black, long-sleeved blouse, the rounded collar, sleeves, and strip of buttons at the front decorated with white venice lace; a petticoat peeked out from a black skirt gathered at the waist and at three-inch intervals all around the hems, a white, ruffled underskirt between that and the petticoat. White, knee-high stockings (also adorned with lace) and black patent Mary Janes were also worn. Black and white ribbons were woven through her dark locks that were curled at the ends. Just a touch of lip balm completed her appearance.

A small bouquet of flowers was held in one hand, the other slowly plucking random petals and letting them drift off with the wind. Not many would notice the falling objects; the street was quite empty this time of night. Quietly, she hummed a tune to herself, a simple melody that melded with the darkness as she continued to observe the coffee shop with an absentminded gaze.

Whether it was the rapid noise, the blinding lights that seemed to burn for days, or the bodies and bodies of crimson liquid that strode the streets at the late hour of the city that attracted her...or the shady retreats from the rest of the world in its dark corners, the lost and the searching, or the merciless...she didn't know. All Milla's senses tended to bathe in the aura of the city, and wait for the warm breeze to send her way the scent of a new life giving drain.

The gust of wind that blew at the tail of her trench coat whipped it around her waist and let her black boots gleam in the light of a nearby coffee shop. The ebony road at her side seemed endless as she watched its path, wondering where its destiny stretched. Along its eternal trail sat a single petal of scarlet. It let her lips tug into a smile, for it reminded her of a timeless future in which she resided in.

Blinking once to let the light around her dim before her eyes, she watched as another petal floated before her. Swaying in the light breeze like a pendulum, it rocked back and forth until she caught it in mid air. Clenching her fingers around it into a tight fist, she opened her hand to see the petal's glory within it. Her senses seemed to sting, rendering her with a slight headache. Taking a silent breath, Milla turned her head to see the source of the petals.

For a while, Xiyla did not realize that someone had noticed her antics and continued to remove flowers of their glory-sometimes a hestitant tug that would stretch the petal until it broke on its own...other times, a quick movement that tore it from its siblings. During that time, the girl's gaze had driven itself from the lit coffee shop to its neighboring buildings, studying the crumbling architecture that seemed to decay so easily compared to other structures of long ago.

Reaching forward a little, Xiyla's fingers met air, and she stopped her humming. She looked down at the limp stem she held, devoid of its former radiance and beauty. With a quiet sigh, she grasped the remains of the flower, about to throw it over the roof's edge, when she noticed someone-a woman-standing in front of the coffee shop. Normally, she would pay no mind, because people often slipped in and out of that establishment, but after a while, she saw that the woman did not enter the building like she thought. Instead, her eyes looked up...at Xiyla.

The girl's delicate brows furrowed together slightly. Would the woman find it strange....for a small child to be sitting up on a rooftop late at night? Did she even see Xiyla at all? Quietly, she waited...

And their eyes met, watching one another as the moon watched the stars in fascination of what it may discover. Milla smiled once more at the aura produced from the child, and slipped the crimson petal into her jacket's pocket. She looked behind her shoulder, making sure that not a soul was watching her before she jumped up into the night air. Piercing the wind that threatened to knock her off course, Milla landed on the ledge next to the child, taking a seat and watching her with curious brown eyes.

With a slight laugh, she took a flower from the girl, hoping she hadn't frightened her already. "Do you not think that this flower would like to enjoy life as much as you do, child?" she asked, turning the flower on its stem in her hand. Her almost Russian accent vibrated through her words as she spoke, giving them a stern flare. Though her smile gave her a gentle look to the girl, she was washed through her four hundred years with war and blood shed. She awaited the child's answer with patience, though she rarely had any these days...but there was something about this girl that interested her, be it the aura or the rather strange night spot. "Ah, but I see. It had slipped onto the eternity we can not see before you chose its fate?"

The child blinked, taken aback at the woman's unnatural leap of grace. However, she seemed not to be the least bit perturbed; a welcoming smile graced her mouth. "I believe it had already lived to its full potential," she replied softly. "Like the others, they were already beginning to fade when I stopped to pick them up."

With both hands, she stretched out her arms and held the flowers up towards the moonlight from which the lamp she sat behind had blocked. Each individual petal captured a bit of the light and reflected a glowing radiance unknown to any other object. "It would only be right to let some of them fly like they did as seedlings."

She held them up for a little while longer, her head tilted slightly to the side, studying them as if it were the last time she would ever see such beautiful flowers. Then, with a deft movement of her wrists, she let them go; a number of roses, carnations, daisies, violets, and baby's breath floated up into air, seeming to hover at the peak of their ascent, before drifting down onto the street below. Scattered about near an apartment window, it looked as if a woman had been the receiver of the bouquet but was angered at the one who had sent it to her, thus removing them from her household. Perhaps a passerby would notice and pick one of them up...

Satisfied having watched the flowers fall, Xiyla turned her head to the side, looking up at the woman sitting next to her. Her accented voice was pleasant to the child's ears, beautiful even. Blue and gold eyes studied the woman's face, also finding it pleasing to look at. She seemed different than other mortal women, however...she just couldn't put her finger on it yet. A most obvious clue was the effortless display of a single jump from one side of the street to a thirty-five foot tall building on the other. Mortals simply didn't have that ability. "I don't mean to pry...but you are not a mortal, am I correct?" she inquired softly.