smooth white silk spilled from skin the color of white gold, tumbling in delicate folds to drape over perfect breasts and cinche a tiny waist. at five foot one, ianna was the epitomy of feminine. corn silk pale tresses swept powerfully to her shoulders, fringes brushing her brow that accented brilliant sapphire eyes. her mouth was full and parted, her arms outstretched as the wind rushed her little form. the winds torrenting with the short hem of her hand stitched gown, perfect and gorgeous. she was barefoot even in the unbearable chill and it allowed for one to see a celtic pentegram emblazoned on her metatarsels. she was a goddess, unchallenged in her beauty.