The sliver of a woman he will soon awaken to find is not a stranger to being discarded. Though now her appearance is that of a soul wasting away, once upon a time she was a vision. The once velvet skin appears ruffled and coarse as each intricate bone demands the ability to command the eyes. Compared to her past self, the one before you is ruinous. The shadow of a girl who once shown brighter than the sun reduced to a fragile carbon copy of squandered grandeur. She is diminished to the dust beneath hardened hooves and she finds herself want to remain as such. Why attempt ascension after plunging so drastically? She lacks the motivation to endeavor such tribulation. She has recognized that there will be no shining knight to magically rescue her, but she also is unable to salvage herself. Her relief that she was intelligent enough to retreat quickly is tangible in the cool air as the startled stallion flails awake. What unholy ghost possessed her to enact such a bold move? Such brazenness is quite unlike Anne. His attempt at an assault causes tears to spring into amber eyes, but she swallows thickly, banishing her weakness. Her own delicate ears move flush to her dainty skull, and a single front hoof stomps in indignation. "Why would I tell the likes of you? Why not attempt to rip the information from me?" Her words are a warning hiss of a snake, cold and calculated. She is bold - perhaps too much so - for someone quite obviously on a precarious ledge between living and dying of malnutrition. Surprisingly enough, she still summons the energy to occasionally allow a very miniscule piece of her old self to slip through. |