The hardest thing that is distinctly unique to this fandom among all others is how we find forms that 'personify' us. Especially if that form lasts for a long time... changes are painful, like mentally amputating one's old limbs with the ones freshly grown. Even if you know it needs to be done, actually doing it can wretch at your very soul in ways that I doubt many other groups in the world can relate to.

After a particularly rough relationship and breakup, combined with the death of my grandmother shortly after I'd reconnected with her after several years in silence, the old me no longer fit... WolfWings as the post-apocalyptic gryphon had been a steadfast warrior for so long for me, clad for battle in ritualistic armor. But the war was over... yet the armor was still there, even though I didn't realize it for the longest time.

I did find the new me with a lot of help from several friends getting me stable, keeping me afloat, and sidian helping me puzzle-piece together what I was actually feeling as 'me' again once the red-eyed battle-mask of WolfWings fell away... it's hard to truly describe yourself when you don't have a mirror you can look in to see it, having to 'feel' your way through it with clumsy fingers and thoughts alone.

I'd never connected to 'wings' beyond being part of my name everyone knew me by, as a previous piece by the same artist many years ago can attest; in fact that same artist having recently gone through a similar metamorphosis is why I asked her to do this piece. It's a struggle that only one that's gone through it could relate to, and her tie to that older picture of me struggling with the idea of self made purraparru the best choice for this piece.