Ice Figure

"Its only after we've lost everything, that we're free to do anything"

-Tyler Durden; from 'Fight Club'

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Our Mary Le Maine went wandering again. The sections of the forest, she realized, were more like dens. And for all their occupants, it was too intense. Once they left, this could all feel pretense.

She came to a new section. This one was winter, she made it her selection.

Mary Le Main walked on and on. She did not feel the chill, she guessed it was fond. As she tread on, she passed a group of fawn. They pranced through the sparkling snow that shone.

It was all beauty. Yet had an air of something gloomy.

As she reached the center, she saw a woman. Her hair was white, almost inhuman. Her eyes the color of rubies, in a place of confusion. A place of intrusion.

Her bones, looked like ice. Sculpted from crystal, every slice precise. It glittered, very nice.

But her expression. It was one of depression, deception.

She was just sitting in the snow. As if she wanted to hide what had such beauty to bestow. She just let it all bury her, in the middle of her snow plateau.

Mary Le mains eyes went away. Looking to this woman's podium, not to faraway. As she looked inside, she could see her, being castaway. Her people, pushing her away, no longer letting her stay.

As she ventured forth, the snow piled around her. From only the fawn she could now be heard. She was slowly freezing, being so far away from the green fields, much like Ulster. Her feature even more appearing being made by the hands of a sculptor.

Then, she froze to death. Now, upon her neck and head, her only flesh. Being perfectly preserved, fresh. All for a crime, she falsely confessed.

She just wanted a home. To no longer roam. Nothing here could be shown. All of his, now written in stone. Now again, forced to be alone. In this world, sadly, her own.

Mary Le Main knew how to help. She could now understand what she felt.

She again touched the crystal. But it didn't fall, only gave a small twinkle. She pushed it harder, finally falling, gittel.

She picked up the inner gem. Walking over to the woman, so all could no longer be dreamt. But when she handed it out, the woman made no attempt. She didnt care for the intent.

So instead, Mary Le Main kneeled down. Picking up the womans hand, placing it in the center, to finally be found. The woman looked up to Mary Le Main, her world spun around.

Her red eyes found peace. The snow melted, ceased. The warm, and the amount of her skin, increased. She now wore a snow-white dress, uncreased. No longer a face of displease.

The woman held much beauty. From her feet to her eyes of ruby. She could show it all now, pure and truly.

She made her way to the gate. It was not a debate. The sun shone here, without restraint.

She vanished into this light. Her mind now, in pure delight.