Memories flicker across her mind's eyes as the blue-eyed blonde young woman lay there curled up cozily in the depths of those thick bed covers, her breaths coming soft and slow as eyes closed to the world remember with startling clarity everything that had happened but two mornings ago. She is standing there again, in the dark clearing alone with camera clasped between her hands, slender fingers wrapped around the device that was the embodiment of her passion. She feels herself press that button and the click of her shutter breaks through the quiet like a glass dropped into tile flooring. He is looming over in only a single breath's time, massive leathery wings stretched out to either side of the dark man with those dangerous hazel eyes that glitter in the silver light of the moon. He wears a devilish smile then, satin words sliding over his tongue like honey molasses as he purrs to her those words and snatches away her camera. The creaking and the cracking echo through the trees and she nearly cringes, heart racing wildly in her breast. Unconscious, she draws the warm blankets of her shoulders as if a cold breeze had wrapped itself around her slender sleeping frame, that life changing pre-dawn moment replaying itself once more. She could never forget that dark hazel gaze, the way that glimmers of emotion had subtly found their way to the surface in the shape of things like wrath then intrigue only to shift into amusement as their encounter played on through her thoughts. She could never forget that devilish smile, that midnight voice that had sent a soft shiver through her as they stood alone in the dark. Everything about him has been powerful, overwhelming almost, and yet she had asked him to join her for breakfast as they emerged from the deepest part of the park and stopped beside her white sedan. He had declined her invitation, yet still she had hoped that she might just find him again, however near or far in the future. After all, if he called Sacrosanct his home as she did, just how hard would it be to find him again? Ah, but there was her small-town logic echoing in the back of her mind again, the same voice that he gotten her in trouble to begin with the other night.

Her entire world had changed that day, all because of that chance encounter with the fae man. Andras. Baby blues flutter open then, the last image to dance across her dream being that lazy smile and smoothly ushered farewell. A soft groan escapes past lightly parted blush-colored lips as she shifts beneath her blankets, stretching as she grew more and more awake. The soft tinkling of a tiny bell rings out lightly in the quiet of her room now filled with weak morning sunlight filtering through her thin white linen curtains, Beylani knowing full well the wielder of that sound. It is then that her tortoiseshell feline friend leaps gracefully up onto her bed, leisurely walking across the silver and white plaid comforter and crawling onto her human before laying upon the young woman's chest with front paws tucked neatly beneath her multicolored body, soft jade gaze blinking slowly as they met those baby blues. A sleepy smile dances upon those blush-colored lips as she take her right hand and strokes the now purring feline from her shoulder to the base of her tail slowly and affectionately."Good morning, Chika", she said in soft and quiet words with the same ritualistic sentiment, sterling voice sounds out lightly into the lightening room. The contented feline companion gives a small "mrow" in return and so often Beylani mused herself with the idea that just maybe she was saying it back. If people knew half of what went on in my head they might truly think I've lost it, she thinks to herself as a soft, trickling note of laughter ushers from her while she almost begrudgingly moves to sit up after a long moment of simply enjoying the warmth and subtle vibrations that came with each and every morning wakeup courtesy of the tortoiseshell cat she so loved. She was content to let those she now called neighbors think of her as they pleased, their opinions would hold little over the blonde woman's head. A childhood of being jeered and teased had prepared her to become the confidence young adult that she was, comfortable enough in her own skin not to care what strangers were kind to her or less than courteous. She'd still offer them that same sweet smile whether they smiled back or ignored her, such was simply and purely Beylani's way.

Going about her morning as she often did, starting up a fresh four cup pot of coffee and tending to the ever persistent demands of the purring cat who remained perched in her window until the soft ringing of kibble hitting ceramic sounded and quickly prompted her to leap down gracefully and trot over to her dish to indulge happily in her own breakfast while the young woman had a warmed bagel with garden vegetable cream cheese to go along with her coffee, it began to feel like just another day in the big city. After having eaten and finished that final delicious drop of home brewed coffee from the locally grown beans she'd purchased at the market down the street from Riverdale, she moves into the bathroom and partakes in yet another of her favorite things; a nice, hot shower. They always felt the best in chilly autumn mornings. She turns the knob and water erupts from the faucet overhead, putting her hand in the stream to test the warmth. Once it is warm enough, steam beginning to fill the small room, she removes her clothes and climbs into the stall, drawing the blue plaid curtains, a happy sigh falling from her lips as the water begins to run over her slender frame, running hands through her wet, blonde hair while massaging cherry scented shampoo into a thick lather. How she absolutely reveled in a warm shower at the start (and sometimes end) of the day. Never caring much for keeping track of how long it takes for her to condition, wash, then rinse she finally emerges from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and makes her way across the small living area and into her bedroom where she begins to dress herself in a pair of lightly faded bootcut jeans and an emerald green turtleneck. She thinks for a moment how beautiful Hyde Park surely looked on a clear autumn day like today but a slight frown largely uncharacteristic for the blue-eyed blonde pulls at the corners of her lips. What good would it do when she now had to save up for a new camera? She turns her gaze to the oak dresser on the west wall of her room, studying momentarily the crushed device that quickly took her back to the night she met Andras. She wanted to be angry - furious even - about how he'd acted so ruthlessly in ripping it out of her hands and in one fell swoop crushed the only material possession of hers that meant so much. She reminds herself though that it was her own fault that it had happened to begin with, and she remembers for a fleeting feelings moment the way his hazel eyes had changed at the end of their meeting. He may have nearly given her a heart attack (or worse), but she couldn't help the feeling that somewhere beneath that midnight voice and dangerous, devilish gaze there was more than the tall and intimidating fae man that had so courteously walked her to her car and bid her farewell in a way she'd only seen in old movies.