Around this bodice was a black silken dress, the rim tattered and slightly dusty from walking. It seemed to have life to it as she strode, flipping and billowing. With slender brows and smooth facial features, she was exquisite. Her smile was flawless, except for two pointed canines. Her hair was long and somewhat greasy, loose strands standing out among the rest of the tresses. She was not an animal, but a Angel Lochilan, feathery wings limp and silent. A long tail with a lush plume at the end flicked, weaving out from under the gown. And such pale, cold skin. It bristled at the touch, yet it was so smooth. A hint of light stripes wrapped around her flesh, almost unnoticeable. But the night didn't seem to care, it just shrouded her, protectively, ominously. Though she walked through the shadows, as all might do, she was not deathly. She just wanted something, she did not know what. And one by, distractions fade from view, and only a figment of this spectral being is left for you to ponder. The smooth laughter of a angel echoes.