As he arose from the whirlwind of ash, he wondered what it was that
had actually happened. The last thing he remembered was that he had
fallen off the edge of the frail olive branch, everything covered in
flames. As he came plumeting down, he was corraled out of the air by a
dove. This dove, with her lush, white feathers glistening above the fire
that had engulfed the land, had brought him to her olive branch, but
much like his own olive branch, hers too began to split, and combust. It
was as though everything that he touched died. He despised it. The
dove comforted him, telling him, that they merely havn't found their
olive branch. "It's not necessary to be born into the olive branch to
which you belong." said she. so they searched on and on. To this day,
they search. He had found half of himself, the day the dove came from
above, but alas, he has yet to find the other half. For she is Immortal
Dove, and he only a mere idea, however every idea may perhaps have
the potential to become immortal, depending entirely upon what it is
nurtured with, and the perspective behind it.