Silence hummed. It was not the silence of nothingness, nor the silence of death. No, the silence which haunted this soul was loss.
I am lost.
The soul, previously out of consciousness, stirred beneath the shady canopy of thick branches above. The figure, a woman, stretched a delicate hand, touching it gently to the leaf-strewn forest floor she lay upon. In a slow motion, her fingertips grazed the earth before closed eyelids snapped open and her upper body wrenched upward.
The startled woman was a magnificent sight. Her frame was slight and the epitome of grace, though a hidden strength hinted beneath her petite frame. She wore a gown of strange yet beautiful fabrics, silvery materials which seemed to glow and flowed off her body with unworldly grace, accentuating her pale, unflawed skin to a shine. Even more strangely, by her side lay what seemed to be a saddlebag, spilling from it's depths was the hilt of what look remarkably like a finely crafted sword. Most notably, however, was the woman's face where beauty shone from every feature. A small nose and full lips set in a pale face of uncoloured cheeks. Eyebrows, now high in her shock, stood as delicate arches above hauntingly blue eyes. Long, midnight tresses completed her appearance, partially covering oddly yet fittingly pointed ears and it seemed no such specimen had ever appeared on this earth – though the creature herself knew better than to assume such knowledge...
