Born from Stars, Turned by Fire,
The Bravest One shall soon expire,
Should she live past 200 years,
Curses confirm our worst fears,
Left in life now with all gone,
Her memories will not live on,
The way to break the awful spell,
Only time, and True Love's Kiss, will tell.
A girl stood, her forest green dress billowing in the breeze. She raised the bow to her eye and let loose. The arrow flew perfectly, striking a dead bulls eye in the target. She reached to her quiver for another, only to be stopped by the sound of a scream. Her eyes widened and she slung her bow over her shoulder, careful to pull her pale white hair out of the way, then took off, the curly mop flying free behind her.