"I can't heal your hands," the witch had told you, "but I can give you a freedom that those with hands will never know."
You'd agreed. Your family was alarmed, but you've yet to regret the decision - even now, months later. You stand and look outwards, the world a glittering patchwork beneath you. The wind caresses your face, and whispers through your new wings.
You leap, and you soar.