The other man had left them in the wood; why she had already forgotten, any memory of him washed away in the insane joy that flooded her to bring home a gift of her own. She had not missed the arrogant way of the woman who had found her, she had seen the Lord arrive with his blasphemous elegance and praise silently she who had collected another body.

He loved her for it. She would be loved now, too, giggles echoing on the stone walls that towered about them in the partially sheltered path, occasional care given to the dips that threatened to send one careening down sheer embankments and into stones below, her songs of the earlier branches of the journey abandoned for the occasional mad muttering or flighty dance forward.

Bouncily she trots along the winding path, the jagged crack in the stone effacement's that the Sialia woman had shown her those weeks ago long behind them and the first glimpses of the tall bronze beings evident on the lightening horizon.

Morning had come while they walked, the little devil watching the yellow sliver with the anxiousness of a vampire, of a demon bound to darkness. "Light comes." She does not like the Sun, its brightness; it blinds her, it reflects from her porcelain skin and it burns, it burns. It had tried to steal her face her first summer, forcing the flesh on her delicate face into redness and rising blisters across the most tender of places, and it had peeled and peeled away for what felt like forever.

She would not let it try again.

"It is our face," she whispers sourly, a muttering to herself commencing as the final stretch of the path is swallowed by their pace and the Basin opens to them.

Her eyes are narrow and hateful as they glare at the Sun, their figures entering the snowy gateway of the realm of the unicorns and the white dancer turning about to look upon her prize once more, a gust of wind blowing in from the path they had just left behind to lift her feathery mane from her face in flyaway strands. With a crazed grin that flashes pearlescent teeth in the vague, misty half light of the early morning, she dances in place and giggles happily, occasionally pivoting to gesture wildly around her.

"Oh, we missed the night," she sings sorrowfully despite the jubilant motions of her body, "forced to burn beneath the light…" With suddenness, she stops facing inward to the land, hair settling downwards slowly as if it wished to defy the gravity that grasped at it. "Oh, my Lord, my Lady!" she calls, girly voice eerily loud in the early hour, "Beloved returns to you with man flesh."

@[Panzram]