Early mornings are rife with tense repression.

*Slithers through a deserted street.*

Darling, everyone thinks they're the big, bad wolf.

What makes your bite so fierce?

But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

*Something, somewhere is amiss. A stolen breath, perhaps. A chilled heart.*

*Her eyes -- dark and fathomless -- enchant and compel. And many a poor soul finds himself drowning within her molten hues.*

*Toes into a pub, letting her nose lead her further into the den of mock virtue while her fingers linger upon the soulless, drunken people.*

Phooey.

*A grin; a sneer. There's a hint of malice in the charged air around her. What's this? A lost man?*

Kitty cat, kitty cat, so, so full. Lap up the moon till it's whole, whole, whole.

*A short dress dances along the tops of her thighs as her thick, white fur coat drapes over her thing frame.*

Darling, darling. Don't trust a starlit, you may just get bit.

*A short dress dances along the tops of her thighs as her thick, white fur coat drapes over her thin frame.*

*Slithers along the empty streets, slinking past lit windows with wandering eyes.*

*Watches a man pound on a boarded flat's door, not minding the slightest that the freezing rain makes his styled hair limp.*

*Her fingers curl around a streetlight and she twirls around it, humming as the man screams vulgarities at the flat.*

What to do, what to say~? *A spin, a whirl. A glistening, wayward smile.* To make the big, bad man go, go away~? *A bite, a snap.*

Tsk, tsk. Tut, tut.

*Twirls, drawing twists and loops in the light-sticking snow with her bare toe. She spins round, eyes wide and lips curved.*