Not all monsters were born like one

It's Raining It's Pouring

It was even harder to fly in the rain. I had to go slower. It was picking up. Wind started to blow on my face. The wind was picking up. I looked around. I saw a cave near by. I started to fly to it. When I was inside I put my stuff down and made a campfire. I was cold. Shivering down to my bone. I notice a piece of broken glass. I hold it up to my face. I saw a girl a few scars on her face, dirty blond hair and gray, stormy eyes.