Post by Vanessa on Jan 11, 2009 2:40:13 GMT -5
A young femme, about the age of 4, strayed into a field filled to the brim with flowers. But she did not take notice of the beauty around her as she walked aimlessly. Although this was a most gorgeous place, she had no idea where she was. The wobbly twigs that held her up shook under her as she tried to remember where she was, why she was here. A drip of crimson trickled down her lowered boa to her side, and a large gash marked her flank. The fae's fluttering optics saw nothing to spark her memory, and she soon just lay down in the meadow. The sun beat down upon her ivory peltry as she tried to rest.
