Dressed in a pristine white toga that clung gracefully to her flawless form, one that revealed just enough divinity, still rather elegant, the woman sat, sprawled on a loveseat, her gaze fixed on the music-like box with a mirror on the mini table close by.
"Everything has gone wrong. Way too soon…"
Her long sparkling silky silver hair poured all the way down to her ankle, a face—incredibly angelic, painted with concern.
"I do not wish to imagine how cruel it must feel down there," she mumbled to herself, her eyes—light brown and shimmering.
She blew on a single strand of her hair, patted down by the crown of flowers on her head. "They could have had mercy on her, but no. Who's going to save her now? What will she d—"
"Keona!" The double door of the room banged open and in walked another woman, just as angelic, hair rather a mop of golden curls that fell all the way to her bottom.
