~{Sarina Isabelle Taryn Fray}~
Sarina flicked a strand of her dark hair out of her icy blue eyes, letting her iridescent wings flutter slightly behind her, giving her an airy bounce to her step, as if she stayed in the air for longer than she should when she rose. She enjoyed using her wings to fly--or rather, flutter--even though she despised that they existed. She already had enough trouble growing up in a hopelessly broken home, and now she was some...thing. An innocent young child might be enchanted by her bewitching beauty, adore the creature so much alike those in their fairytales. But when you were all grown up, and you knew what belonged in this world...Sarina, to you, would be a freak. A monster, a demon. It was hard enough to keep her shattered family a secret, and now she had to deal with being a Gray Angel. Yet, she'd waste no time feeling sorry for herself, wallowing in despair. She would not be the princess, the "oh, woe is me!" damsel in distress of this wickedly distorted fairytale. She just had to get through life.
Her peaceful woodland serenity was interrupted by a loud shattering sound in the distance, a dim light, and the scuffling of feet--or paws? Against her better judgement--oh, let's not kid ourselves; Sarina posesses absolutely no good judgement whatsoever--she turned on her heel and went towards the scene, carefully applying Glamour to hide her wings, just in case. She reached the source of the commotion, but there was just one person, running northwards. One person whose face was contorted with malice and disappointment--or was that a predatory determination? Her breath caught as she skidded to a stop. She had a pretty good idea of who--does it matter anymore when 'who' crosses the line into 'what'?-- this was. And she had to get away. To the north, where the hunter was dashing, there was a large wooden house, which was oddly out of place. That was probably not an option. Well, she was concealed by glamour. Maybe a lone teenage girl in the woods on a school day wouldn't be too suspicious, if she played the cards right. She still didn't know how the hunters determined which humans were not, in fact, humans. But she had to give it a shot. She said nothing--he had not, that she knew of, noticed her yet, as he was still facing the house. She turned on her heel and tried not to let her pace quicken.
