Vinyl's fur was a mess. She had been pacing around the room for the last while, eyes dull. Gibberish, or so what seemed like it, could be heard coming from her. "M'i yorri, Maryn! Te seno det! M'i yorri oti, Skiv! If I wol'tn ob a Winged yu wol'tn ob dead!" she cried. Vinyl had forgotten to lock the door in her grief.