Your Description, as follows...
Dark hair do you have, apparently, though cut short at your shoulders,
quite unevenly: almost as if it had been cut with a blunt knife; it is
brown in color, though you can barely tell, as dry black blood covers
it thickly. It is full of burrs and knots that you try desperate to
pull your fingers through; but to no avail.
Eyes dark as midnight stare back at you; to your surprise you can
figure that they are frightened: have an almost hunted look in them;
though you cannot remember who hunted you or why you have been hunted.
Thin black eyebrows are penciled delicately above your ebony orbs; and
long black eyelashes glide across them, full lashes caked with dark
blood that you sweep off. A thin, though nice-looking nose (you think)
is centered between the dark eyes.
You skin is fair, white and cold; though the faintest scent of
rosy-pink hovers near. Your lips are full and crimson: but cracked and
stained with blood are they; indeed the left side of your mouth is
full with dry blood. It seems if you move your jaw the slightest your
lips crack more; and it hurts. You decide to stop doing so.
A strange outfit do you wear; strange, indeed, especially for a female
of the Elven. Your top, your shirt, is made of soft material of some
kind; it is dark, and, yes, the front is slightly stained and damp
with blood. The pants are dark as well, and long, and loose; and the
knees are full of dusty brown dirt, and the front of your thighs are
streaked with blood.
Dismay grows on your pale face as you glare at the blood. Blood,
blood, blood! Do you have a wound anywhere? You quickly survey your
arms.
They are white, as all your skin, but no severe injury is seen;
though, several thin, red cuts are seen on them. Your hands, too, you
inspect: but the same result is acquired. They are slender, your
hands, and slightly calloused around the tips of your fingers, or in
the middle of your palm. You also notice that a flowing cut is to be
seen on the back of your right hand, and your fingernails are cut
short, and coated in thick, grimy, dusty clay.
First off, you look carefully, ever so, into a puddle. The dark
surface is shiny, reflecting whatever little light might there be...
