[complete] turn and face the strange; any

[Izora Lethia]

The night creeps by peacefully in the Taiga woods. How many days has she felt true peace? One not masked by the comfort of her gift, though she wraps it tightly around herself now. The disappearance of her mate and her son, the turmoil of Pangea and the North, the heavy weight of responsibility that she had taken upon herself, it would all suffocate her with out her security blanket of peace.

This day was no different, her dreams riddled with terrors and pleasures keeping her in a restless sort of sleep. One particular dream found her in a flurry of dust. It stings her soft, velvet cheeks. Kissing them like a ruthless lover, changing her very being.

The kiss of magic pulls at her blanket, soaking it with more magic. It grows heavy and then with no warning the dust leaves, and all that is left is the soft, deep purple glow of the peace she holds so dearly. Unbeknownst to her that it was not simply a dream, and as her eyes flutter with her mind to the next unsettling dream her body now generates a physical blanket of soft, deep, purple glow so that all who looked upon her could see just how much she relied on her gift of peace.

A facade.

Ooc: Izora Lethia has glowing, an all over soft, deep purple.