Dragons and anthropomorphic creatures, fantasy and original beauty; these are the beasts of my mind. Enter these woods and let them fascinate you
Her voice, she has a sand paper voice, but, but, sometimes, it's clear. I've heard it. It's like the wind. Though, just as her skin, it will turn raw again. Paper thin raw meat with her see through veins popping beneath her eyelids. When she moves, her joints squeak. When she breathes, a hollow between her heart and her lungs occasionally beeps away on its own. Her hands are always dry, her eyes are always large. She is an inverted fairytale
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(c) 2011 Isabelle Dumont