• The full glimmering moon glowed with blinding beauty, in the night that spoke of bloodshed. Dashing through the woods Alichia wept; the only one knowing of the fear that lies ahead. Tears glimmered away as she ran. Eyes closed, not daring to look back, she ran, and ran, and ran, her hair flowwing in the wind like a curtain with the windows wide, with only one red lock that outlined her face slightly and had no shine but a sliver.
    Eyelashes long and groomed like a pampered yorkie's fur, never madded, tattoo on her shoulder big but fine swirl when going down, had three curved points, the last and biggest ended exactlly on her elbow, which faced her shoulderblade and glowed an eerie gray blue, exzactly the same as the moon, the same eerie glow of red which spoke of blood. Fearstricken, running, her flouresent silver shoes with breaking heels, peeling fabric, the right falling off as she stumbled over fallen wood. Not daring herself in a lifetime to look back and pick it up. Never. Scorn for life by "their" murderers' and soon to be hers, speaking of them, the elves.
    Who taught her to help change the world and her life for the better, and in years later leading them to an early death in return. Thinking of "them" almost uttered a wail of greif and disbelif of what she had done to them by remembering: "they've slaughterd them already, their only after me anyways."and kept running.