Priscilla smiling

Despite the secluded nature of the Painted World, the innocent Crossbreed, dreaded by the gods, enjoyed strolling on the cold fringes of her snowy cage, veiled in an everlasting night. She admired the beauty of winter, vividly portrayed by the hands of Ariamis, who refused to paint such singular, beautiful existence in anything else than a beautiful world. Since childhood, she was denied her future by gods that feared her as a harbinger of death, an aberration to the status quo. And yet, Priscilla never hated herself, never agonized over her imprisonment. For there was one man who saw beauty in her, and painted her beautifully, trapping her in her very own frame of paradise... Ah, but perhaps, she wouldn't mind some company from time to time.