I never expected this to happen. But it did. Who knew that rescuing a broken winged canary would lead to me being able to transform? It would seem like a blessing to most, and in a way, it is. Except for the fact that I'm kinda, sorta... On the run. Sometimes, people refer to me as the girl who speaks to birds. And I guess I am. ***Highest Ranking: #95 (8-28-15)*** I wrote this when I was 11 - 12, it definitely has its flaws, I am aware of them. All the same, people enjoy this book, so I'm keeping it up. Keep on reading, friends.

Ashelin lived a solitary life, content in its simplicity until the day it was taken away from her. Battling with her grief and struggling to find her place in a world that just became much larger, Ash clings to her simple purpose in the changing world, having a hand in forging it whether she knows it or not. A story of healing, of friendship and of facing the odds to make a better world for those to come. **This is a first draft, and some of the earlier chapters are...not all that great. I'm still learning and this story has been quite a journey for my writing skills, but if you can make it through some of the lesser parts, hopefully you'll find the tale I'm trying to tell.**

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.