RP example: Peyote took in a deep breath as he stepped into the familiar receiving room of the Healing House. A small candle wavered from its usual mounted perch along one wall, delivering a scent of palm nuts and olive oil, used to make the candle fuel. The door across the room creaked open a little, and surprised, beautiful black eyes blinked back at him. Slowly, Parodia pushed open the door and stepped across the room to him, as if unsure he was really there. Softly, gently, she stroked one of his wings, and he felt a pang in his heart. He shouldn't have abandoned her like that. Poor Littlewings... He gazed down at her, and she looked back. Finally, she spoke in a quivering, tremulous voice, "You're back... you're really back. Peyote... oh, it's wonderful," she whispered. Peyote glanced guilty down at his talons, and then at the green rug beneath them. "Has... has Cinder been around recently?" he asked awkwardly. Parodia pierced him with her uncannily knowing gaze. "She's been busy, leading the Amber Scarabs. They control the town now. You might... want to know. She was furious when you disappeared... left." She looked up at him again, more rebukingly this time. Peyote felt a regretful little twinge, and smiled sadly. "Yes, Cinder always was one to fly into rages," he chuckled softly. And as he stood there, in a once familiar chamber, with a once familiar sister, talking about a once familiar friend, he realized his choice had caused change, and nothing could be the same afterwards. He could only hope it would be better.
