Legends of Belariath

Kitaura

Few know her in this land, yet. Her name not conjouring up any meaning when it is heard or spoken. But soon, soon she'll have made a reputation for herself -- as her father had had before her.

When one first looks at the tall but very slender girl, the first thing that comes to mind is a delicate lady. A girl born of a high family and raised in a state of comfort. Her features seem to have been carefully sculpted by a master sculter, her features smooth and cleanly cut; yet a person would assume that when the artist had thought up this master piece, he'd wanted it to look different from every other work he'd done. While her visage is indeed beautiful... it's more exotic then not for all the subtle details seen.

Her eyes are faintly almond shaped, rather then rounded, and a shade of black that is darker then the worst sin; gaze far deeper then eternity and just as difficult to understand. Long lush lashes and slenderly curved brows do little to take away from the intensity of her eyes, but create a contrast between delicacy and cruelty that is alluring in the same way that a newly sharpened blade is that glitters dangerously in the light. High cheek bones and smooth jawline tell of her 'gentle' breeding. Her lips are thin but well shaped -- the kind that would be breathtaking if ever curved into a smile, but nothing short of intimidating if the corners were pulled down into a frown; rarely were her lips curved in either of these ways, but seemed always to be in a barely there smirk, a smirk that suggested an agile mind at work on something.

She was long of limb, almost willowy, standing at five feet and nine inches and being one hundered and thirty pounds, yet it was this that must have something to do with the unconscious grace in which she moved, every action that was executed -- may it be a hand lifted in greeting or that same hand lashing out to strike at an opponent, every motion flowed smoothly into the next like a choreographed routine that had been practiced time and again until near perfection had been achieved. She walked with a long stride that never seemed to falter, a litheness that whispered of the strength and resolve that must lie below the seemingly fragile surface. She isn't an overly curved person, having more of an athletic figure then a buxom one, but the gentle curves she does have are not easily looked away from.

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