Meian

L i g h t in its purest form wreaked its cadenced havoc along the snow swept form of the shewolf, muzzle canted almost wistfully to one side in her deliciously vigilant regard. But perhaps in disinterested and differential contrast from her dearest Sister, the younger of the two rarely deigned to grace the world in the form of wolven and lupine contrast.

I n s t e a d, the lithe form was sooner or later caught within the ephemeral rift that forever signified the Shift, and the slight form was drawn upward and into the form of an angel. Or so the world would forever continue to believe, lest she corrected them on the issue. Which, for the sake of eternal and ever contrived amusement, she rarely, if ever, did. Silken locks were a pale blonde that verged upon some warped form of mercurial silver, and perched upon the arch'd frame of her back were twin pinions of deepest tenebrous pitch,clashing with such lurid vehemence with the rest of her appearance.And indeed, perhaps it was that single clash of otherwise impossible relations that caused most to give the lithe femme a second, more measuring glance. That, or the enthralling beauty that was as captivating... yet as lethal and forbidden as the fruit of the first and primal Sin.

S h e was the living and breathing manifestation of the proverbial battle betwixt the realms of light and dark, celestial and syn. And yet never solely did the physical refuse to influence the mental.. for her mind was possessed of that same lapse of equilibrium that had deigned to taunt her entire physical being. For she, as her sister, would forever live up to her last name, that of the �carnal desires�... she, born of the forbidden coupling of succubi and angel that resulted in so warmed a sense of love and life as to leave most trembling in the throes of "gentle" passion, while she yearned for so much more. And yet Meian would be the coquettish one, sensually tempting and then inexplicably drawing away, the proliferated emotions allowed to run rampant as she, at times, was blessed with so course a term by the more disappointed suitors as �Tease.� Had it passed from your lips, that small button nose might have given a distasteful wrinkle, hues alight with mocking humor as she merely turned the other cheek and took her leave.

T h e dark to any light.. the light to any dark.. she might as well have been the corrupted offspring of the ever eternal God and Syn�s own unsurpassed Mistress of hell. And it was deeply within the subtleties of her manner and demeanor that one came across an utter adoration for what she was.. an eager embracement of her being and duel sides. And perhaps, therein, was found the epitome, zenith, and culmination of any man�s p l e a s u r e . . . o r p a i n . . . .