Ruined

Iolaire had been a big, mopey mess. She'd been bitten in the face by a coyote when patrolling with Deathbelle. Her looks were ruined as far as she was concerned. She was going to be ugly for the rest of her life. Might as well curl up and die. Truthfully, the marks weren't all that bad. They would most likely heal without a scar since she'd taken good care in healing them. Once the fur grew back, you wouldn't be able to tell. Alas, the small woman thought the worst and so she had been avoiding everyone to save them from looking at her ruined face.

Today she sat upon the wind swept plain, a gentle breeze ruffling the dame's thick pelt. She hadn't even been taking care of her coat. It was still clean, but it lacked that typical, Iolaire shine. What was the point when you were ugly? A sigh brought silver shoulders raising and falling. What would she do without her looks? Vanity was definitely her sin.