Chapter 41
Talia twisted her hair firmly between her fingers. This way, or that way? She thought to herself as she stared into the mirror. Her crimson locks were positively vibrant after several baths. No matter how much she cleaned herself she just couldn’t seem to fit in her own skin. She felt wrong. So she was working towards mending that problem the only way she knew how. Pulling another bead from a small velvet bag she twisted her hair some more before sliding it on. It was a simple bead, metal hand crafted and shaped by some distant smithy she could hardly remember. The work was fine, though it was only human. The designs were simplistic at best, hardly worthy of what it represented. But it hardly mattered, what it represented wasn’t exactly her best attribute. Talia
- Writer
