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Subject: Fashionably late, a picture of power enters.


Author:
Daughter of Light
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Date Posted: 18:25:55 06/04/03 Wed

Traditionally, the once-Queen of the Light horses, still serving as such until a replacement was appointed, attends all social functions as a human. Today was no different, although she had chosen an attire unique from her usual style. A rich, royal-purple cloak falls from her shoulders, hardly detracting from the mahogany dress. The dress, incidentally a contrast to the cloak, is medieval-cut, with a low square neckline and drooping pointed sleeves. Gold trim embroidered catches facets of light as it runs across her neckline, down her open sleeves, and around her floor-sweeping hem. A gold cord rests tied loosely around her hip, which she manages to not fidget with. Unclasping the golden brooch, a rearing horse, she slips lithely out of her cloak and hangs it unobtrusively near the door. With warm, yet intense, brown eyes, the woman absently scans the room for the host, wishing to greet him. She recognizes none of those present; in her human form, few would likely recognize her. She smiles softly to herself; all the better.

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