She possesses a willowy ivory gown, tinted only by her environment, like bones bleached by an unforgiving sun. Long strands along her curvature twist, twirl, ensnare. With the grace of a dove and its docility. She moves with such grace and indifference, each step a pervading sense of poetic elegance. It is difficult to look away from her tight feminine waist, her foxlike ears, her tapered wrists, her demure, barely-there smile...but most importantly, her eyes. Somber in luster, yet midnight blue in depth, her discernments embody the roiling sea at night.