It was five thousand, three hundred and nineteen miles later that she landed at her destination, those butterflies that made up the woman had burst forth from the cargo area of the airplane the moment the doors had opened, much to the shock of the agents working the commercial airline. For a while, those ivory butterflies had drifted by the windows of the airport, intently following the singular man who had become the object of her obsession. He hardly paid any heed to her, after all, few men would pause to pay any ounce of attention to a lazily drifting crowd of butterflies and, in turn, she had stalked him for several days - watching him...judging him. The metropolis he had chosen as home was unlike anything Aislinn had been to, though she had largely avoided the evolution of civilization in the last hundred years, preferring the depths of the forests and open plains of undeveloped nations. They were, after all, where she belonged. Frankly, the woman had been thankful that even a place like this had some ounce of greenery and quickly the outskirts became the ivory maiden's home. The mare had become intimately familiar with Sacrosanct's woodlands, they provided a boundary between her and the far tamer parts of the city - a way for her to look upon modern society without directly involving herself...at least, not yet. Today, however, would change that.
Her bare feet stepped delicately onto the manicured grass as a small shudder ran down her spine. It...was cold. The dress she wore hardly suited the chill that nipped at her bare arms and seeped through the thin, aged fabric. The once white hue of the lace had turned creamy with age and yet...it had been many years since Aislinn had stepped out into the world as a human. Her clothing was reminiscent of such. He
r outfit had earned her it's fair share of curious glances as the seemingly young woman made her way from the forest edge and onto the colder concrete stones that made up the central pathway of the park. Aislinn, in turn, had been content to return each and every stare she had received, her pale blue eyes hardly short of intelligence as she took in every facet of how life had seemingly changed since her absence from humanity. The women in this age wore...trousers, of all things! Her gaze was steadfast upon one woman who seemed as if she was wearing the fur of a bear, of all things, when Aislinn found herself quite literally colliding into another being - the very act immediately garnered all of her attention as she stumbled backwards and, much to her dissatisfaction, tripped over the horribly uncomfortable stone pathway underfoot to fall back onto her butt in a rather ungraceful manner.
Aislinn seemed almost startled to find herself on the ground, her pale blue eyes turned upwards to eye her assaulter. At first glance he hardly seemed like much of anything - the man far too thin, his moppy brown hair halfway in his face that too seemed equally as startled as her. That is, until that very aura hit her. His soul was as black as death. He was impure. Damaged. Ravaged by sin.