Mar. 26th, 2010

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~The creature stoops, head ducking side to side trying to make a decision. Somewhere inside something screams shelter,rest. The creature does not question the voice-why should it? She straightens but remains slouched for it has become her natural state.

If the old faerie who cursed her could see the girl now, she would feel the beginnings of vindication. If her retainers could see her now they would never believe that the primitive instinct driven creature was once their Princess Beauty. If she were aware of anything but the mere instinct that now drives her, Beauty herself would be mortified and possibly crawl into a hole never to come out again. As it is she is looking for a space to crawl into more from respite from the heavy mists that fall like rain in the fetid swamps of level 5. When she comes upon the pocket sheltered by mist soaked reeds covered in algae and bent over from the weight, she grunts in satisfaction and wriggles her way inside. Nothing can shake the permanent damp of the place but it is a shield from the worst. She crawls back out long enough to make a wild beckoning gesture to Hal(though she does not think of him by name)and a second louder grunt to indicate he can share her shelter such as it is.~


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