Valiance

There is a doe-like softness about her eye which is beautiful, the dark pool of the centre contrasted with the white, and the pale lashes fluttering about the lagoon of the pupil. She herself is tender and malleable, skittish even, yet she portrays an exterior of harshness and people mistake the perceptive shrewdness of those milky eyes for dominance and betrayal. Maybe they are right. It could be the cut of her jaw, or her pink mouth that quirks slowly at the edges, or even her voice that sounds like honey running over and dripping off the back of a spoon, oh so slowly uphill and then drop drop drop down. Any of those give the impression of quiet confidence in oneself that could easily be adapted to a weapon against others, or of power.


The animation in the turn of her wrist is wonderful. She is wonderful, her body is soft and quick to move. The joints, the waist are concave to the hips and chest. Everything is gradual and undulating, and pale. She is a creamy shade, a full beauty with no mark of palpitation on her, no protruding bone or bursting vein upon her leg, about her decollete or around her arm. She is whole like the glowing moon, in perfect proportion to herself.