War At The Ceremony (Beginning Bit)
Fae Talitae sat down at her table trying to think of what to write next. Her curly, dark brown hair was pulled back in a bun and her pale blue eyes were distant as she tried to focus on what she should write down. Her pale skin, usually as white as the first snow, had a slight glow to it from the light of her desk lamp. She continued to rack her brain until she decided that it was time to just take a break from this novel. At least for now.
Fae had always loved the fact that she was a night creature. It was especially humorous with her title as a ‘young inspiring novelist.’ To her that was pure humor. She was at least four centuries old but physically she always looked around 17 or 18 to people. Which sometimes was a hard thing. She had to change pen names after so many years. It always sucked for her when that happened.
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