Phoenix Maplewood champagne eyes and saint-like smile

Indie could travel no longer. Though her fabulous dark plumage kept her [for the most part] warm and toasty, her extremities had begun to cause her some problems. Indie’s toes had long since lost their feeling and sensation amongst the snow; her wet nose and delicate ears burned as the sharp wind buffeted her constantly. The woman maintained a tall figure, but even her beanstalk limbs had to be hoisted uncomfortably high to trudge through the ice landscape. No, this misery would not suite the lavish starlet! 

A crack of thunder made the decision to find harborage a quick one. Alarmed, the dark woman jumped and skittered quickly towards the nearest asylum — as if the lightening’s incredible voltage had manifested itself behind her and chased her, seeking her ruin. She felt just as those wolves of the Sentinels must have felt, ravaged and chased by the licking flames from the sky!  Galloped she did, stretching and heaving her body forward in an instinctive kind of fright. Indie ran and ran and ran until she could run no more and slowed, sides heaving from her physical exertions. It seemed that the electric fire-monster of her imagination was no longer in pursuit. Indie would be safe, for now.

Then, she noticed him.

“Ahoy,” Indie spoke breathlessly, hoping he did not lay witness to her panicked flight. “May I take shelter? It is... so... so very cold.”