[center][img]http://www.ezimba.com/work/150416C/ezimba15732351914000.jpg[/img][/center]

Ama felt the hands of the guard on her wrists, pushing her along. She could feel her stomach churning uncomfortably, the thought of the unknown she was meant to face here. She was late to arrive, that much she knew. She'd wasted as much time as she could talking to the driver before the guards finally got tired of it and grabbed her rather forcefully. Maybe... Maybe no one would want her. She tried desperately to suppress her glow as much as she could bare, as it sort of hurt to force it away like this. 

As she was pushed along, her thoughts returned to the faces of her family, her mother crying, her brothers' blank stares, the absence of her father. Knowing him, he was out in the field. Anyone else would have called him cruel and emotionless but being the Gemminite man that he was, he didn't want to fight anyone. And she was sure that if he'd watched her leave, something within him would have risen up to fight the men taking her. She understood his reasons for not seeing her off. She'd had her moment with him anyway, at the lake. Without saying goodbye, they'd said their goodbye's. Her father was never one for showing his emotions. She smiled at the thought of his awkward gestures that day, the way he tried so hard to avoid the topic, to pretend as if nothing were going to happen to her. 

As so she looked as she entered the room, a small smile held on her pale lips, soft brown hair framing her sharp blue eyes. However, the smile soon faded as she felt the tension in the room. The light in her eyes flickered for just a moment as her heart jumped and her knees began to shake once again. She felt the guard cut her binds and then push her into the room, falling to her knees rather harshly. 

It took her a moment, but she gathered her strength and took a shaking step to stand up straight. It took her a moment with her nerves rattling her so to stand up fully, but she did so. And once she was up, she steeled herself, putting on her mask. Her pale lips sat, unmoving, on her pale face. The only lively part of her now was the glow in her eyes, the one part of herself she could never control. IF she could, she would make herself disappear but for now, she simply took strength from where she could, from the ground, from the dust in the air, and from the memories held within her heart. 

Swallowing, she put the image of her favorite flower in her mind. It was a weed, but then so was she. A weed that grew in any soil or no soil at all, a sturdy flower that could survive any storm. She was that flower now, standing atop a boulder, planting herself firmly, steeling herself for what would come. Maybe... Maybe no one would want her. Surely. The words of her mother suddenly returned to her, as she scanned the room.

[color=gray][i]"You aren't very pretty, maybe they will not want you and send you back..."[/i][/color]

She'd always hated her looks but for once... Ama prayed it so. Ama prayed so hard that she feared she might break from the effort. 

[hider=Her Dress]
[center]
[img]http://www.chiarafashion.co.uk/media/catalog/product/o/-/o-green-red-floral-print-maxi-dress-21964.JPG[/img]
[/center]
[/hider]