Elves, dwarves, and humans once walked this land and built on it. For the past eight hundred years, no sapient being has disturbed the ruins.
Kind of an alarming toad.
She should have done the thing with growing flowers out of her head, she'd be so much less miserable right now.
"Hi?" she says to the toad, not particularly hopefully.
"Grrrrrnk," says the toad, eyeing her as though evaluating her threat level and/or nutrient content.
"You don't happen to be a person toad, do you?"
"Brrrrrk!" It hops toward her, a surprisingly long distance for something that large, and opens its mouth to reveal decidedly un-toadlike teeth.
"Okay never mind." Out she goes, double time.
She takes off. She flies on. Someone must live here somewhere, there aren't enough skeletons for it to have been a plague, are there?
From the age of the ruins, it might just be that all the skeletons have turned to dust. The coastline has occasional beaches and occasional cliffs, as dictated by the vagaries of geology. There are plants, there are birds, there are occasional scars in the land that might once have been walls or roads.
She likes flying, but she's so lonely.
If she goes up very very high can she see any other landmasses in this alucine?
This continent is really big. If there's anything on the other side of the sea, it stubbornly remains below the horizon.
Okay. Are there any... obvious natural barriers that would have prevented the spread of a disease? Big mountain range or a desert she can cross?
If she flies way up, high enough that her wings can barely catch air, she can see the land becoming increasingly arid to the south and rising into foothills to the west.
Okay. She'll go southwest.
Eventually she is above a desert. There are occasional scrubby trees, but not much life otherwise.
When she's more bored than desperate, she pauses and takes naps, wrapping herself in whatever conveniences are necessary to be comfortable, wishing she had flowers blooming at her temples.
Then she moves on.
The desert contains cacti, and rocks, and spiny lizards that can stick their tongues out multiple feet to snag bugs out of the air. Farther south it gets wetter and hillier and gradually transitions into rainforest.
Are there people here?!
There's a beautiful white unicorn browsing on the riverbank! Its horn glows in the twilight.
Maybe it's people. She lands near it.
It looks at her warily, but keeps grazing.
It dashes off into the forest at incredible speed. A flock of the same kind of parrot she saw back in the ruined city start hooting in a nearby tree.
She keeps flying. She explores ruins - it's all ruins - she talks to more and less likely-looking animals, and they're all animals - she looks for flowers, and finds none.
She is getting ready to try crossing the sea by the time a week has passed, but first she retraces her steps, accelerating faster and faster, till she finds the same wrecked city, and starts trying to cover the sky in a responsibly gridded pattern.
Many of the animals, and a suprisingly nonzero number of the plants, try to attack her, but none of them manage to do her serious injury. The ruins contain various interesting objects, but nothing she can interact with usefully.
When she's flying an eastbound leg of the grid above the ruined city, she spots a sail on the ocean, heading her way.
- okay, new plan, beeline for the boat.
It's a small, two-masted ship; the top of the tallest mast has a white flag with a blue border and an abstract green pine tree.
The three people on deck notice her and stare in total shock.
"Hi! I have been SO LONELY, there are no flowers or people alive anywhere on that entire damn continent!"
She presents an odd picture - she's wearing clothes, drapey apricot silk pants and shirt, which, having been grown on her person and then released rather than sewn, are shaped oddly and fit perfectly. She hasn't put her wings away too; those are a buff color on the underside, brown on the back, huge and feathered. There are words in a foreign language written across her skin in tiny print, too small to read from a distance greater than inches, and a map on the back of her hand of what she's explored.