Crimson

Crimson had been something of an eager fool in her youth. She had hopped atop the warrior bandwagon along with fellow aristocrat Grace. But unlike Grace, Crimson knew nothing of fighting. She wasn't skilled, wasn't strategic, wasn't stealthy. But still, the thought of returning to the aristocracy filled her extreme embarrassment. A single "Told you so" would've undone her in an instant.
One night they were surrounded. She panicked, watching as her fellow warriors dropped like flies. And so she flew from the fighting, shaking and crying. Through the tears and trauma she failed to notice that a tree was emerging from the darkness.
She crashed into it skull first.
And now she sits idly under trees, sparing words only for family, a glassy look to her eyes. And aristocrat parents point to her and whisper to their hatchlings, "This is why we stay in our places."