Lithe and supple, her willowy curves had been traced by many an eye as she glided along the dark, grimy streets and alleyways of this old town.
The hearts of men were quickened by furtive glances at the roundness of her bosom, barely contained it seemed ‘neath her corset, bobbing up and down with each step. The eyes of women narrowed and their lips curled not only at the weakness of their menfolk but at their own powerlessness against this force of nature.
Her eyes glittered as bright as the jewellery her suitors had attempted to ply her with, her hair shone as bright as her smile and whenever she entered the room her laughter filled it and everybody present with light and joy.
Her blood and entrails gleam brightly now, ‘pon the moonlit cobbles.
She was worthy.
Her soul shall nourish the dragon, that it might live anew.