Arget-Gala

When she walked through the clearing, everyone fell silent.  No one moved. No one even breathed, for she had taken their breath away. She was dressed in a simple blue gown, which swooped around the neck and danced playfully at her knees. Her long legs ended in perfect bare feet, adorned only by a small ring glittering on her second toe. Her shoulders and neck were only just visible through a curtain of long, flowing hair the color of winter wheat.  She was tall, but not too tall, her skin clear and white, but no sickly, thin, but not abnormally so.  But it was her face that was breathtaking; she was beautiful beyond compare.  A sculpted mout