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[h1][color=D4F0FF] Bodil Bera [/color][/h1]
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Bodil smirked in small victory as the hideous fox-like creature slunk off to torment some other poor soul.  With her wrists shackled and bound, much like a few that had attempted escape before, her brown hair, so dark it was almost black, tussled about as the wind picked up. Closing her eyes, she let out a relieved breath as the icy hiss of wind drew its bitter touch over everything. Her pale skin blushed from it's eager bite, her dark lashes became laced with frost and her wide doe-like eyes seemed to become clear. A storm swept away by the wind. 

But another human woman threw words like daggers at a leech that had attached itself to her arm. In drastic times, true notes of people shone through. Thinking on it, the thin young woman tugged at the shackles on her wrist, gaze on the gaping maw of the door. So close... So far... Eyes blazed a path up to horrid The Collector. Like something without heat, like the windows to his decrepit palace of sale, he had frosted over. That creature did not even flinch at the inhuman cries of hounds and hooves. 

The angry woman cared not for beasts or nightmares or kings or queens. She would not be defeated by this stoney Collector or his milk-willed audience. But as the wind wailed, something in the air changed. Like all the cheer had been drained, a small tornado shifted and stretched in the hall. And it was coming closer, receding in on itself with each spiraling sweep. A form over the height of an average man cloaked itself in shadows and frost. Ah. This was the king they had all talked about.

Well, the Falcon King (for she had misheard his title of 'Falk' and in truth he looked a bit scowly like some such bird; dressed like one too) had graced his nightmare court with an appearance. He looked bored, if anything, not even examining the 'market meat' or even his creepy kin. That queen seemed infatuated with this fowl royal. But the others didn't dare look at him. The humans who trembled with fright all had their eyes on the ground, or anywhere but on His Royal Feathered Dramaticness. Even the high mannered human male, with all his flattery and manners, couldn't look on this Falcon King. 

Bodil scoffed and muttered under her breath, "That's it? A whirl of the cape and a glare?" Something of a sneer crossed her face before she looked past the tepid creatures that were claimed to be royalty. Those eyes looked at the window where the frost had etched delicate patterns and her features softened. The love affairs and quarrels of such a revolting court was not of any interest to her, but frost on the window was. Restlessly she tugged on the chain that had her shackled to the beams above.

That lurking pest of a beast-man broke her gaze by slinking about and she scowled as if she had caught sight of a disgusting display. The beast-man showed off, rounding up some poor man who had bravely attempted escape before tossing him into a pile with that weeping leech. The group that had the well-mannered man in it too. Suspicious, Bodil's eyes gleamed sharply. [/center]