She went to her father’s room and sat on the bed. She looked over at the picture by the side of the bed and picked it up. In the picture were her father, mother, and herself as a baby. She ran a finger over it just bushing the surface of the glass. Then she pulled it closer to her. She held it against her chest. She could feel the warmth that came from it. It gave her a comforting feeling. One she missed.Her father had only died a few months earlier. Though she never knew her mother she felt that she was connected to her in some way. She put the frame down and spread out across the bed. She remembered how her father would play the violin for her every night before she went to bed. She thought about how much she loved this place. She didn’t want to leave but she knew she had to. She used to be part of thoughts few who lived among humans as her father had brought her up to live with them. He had even married a human. Her father also thought her the importance of being a hawk.