Whispy Lips
Let's be honest.
Her name is Bitchcraft...
Daughter of Pazuzu and Bitch...
She didn't exactly have the best start in life.
Some of us are just destined to be rotten.
The youth is inky black like pupils of a rabid dog. Slices of bright red are arched up her slender limbs and reaching the soft underbelly. She is not very old nor very large but the winged girl manages on her own just fine. Her young brain does not comprehend fear or it's very existence, but perhaps she is predisposition to be fearless. Dark eyes look into the chamber with a tired expression. Her wings hurt from the flight through choppy winds. Her landing was less than smooth when said winds managed to catch under her already struggling wings and flung the equine against a jutting cliff edge before falling and crumpling on the ground.
She lays still, huffing slightly to herself before gathering the spindly limbs under her petite frame and drawing herself up. Long lashes fall over the dark eyes in the annoyance of her arrival and she sighs slow and deep before lids lift, features flat. The ruby striped girl takes it upon herself to walk though the boundaries to find a resident or two...get a feel of the place.
"Hm." The grumble follows as the sharp nails pull her into the Chamber's embrace. The onyx filly does not know fear.
Nor does she care to know it.
Thanks mom and dad. How charming to look down upon your newborn babe and think, 'Gee, you look like a Bitchcraft!'
Some of us are meant to be ants and slave away while some of us are the ones to hold the magnifying glass when the sun is at it's highest peak.
This is the last night you'll spend alone
Look me in the eyes so I know you know