Satisfied, Rhyn rose, towering over the tiny woman with flaxen hair.
She had eyes the deepest blue-green of the Celtic Sea and flaxen hair, which although matted and unkempt, promised to shine sun-kissed when groomed.
The night was long and cold. Deidre slept, and Katie drifted between a fitful doze and her thoughts. Dawn crept across the jungle, peering first from the tangled branches overhead then inching through the trees. As soon as she could see well enough, Katie crawled to Deidre's feet. The woman continued to sleep, and Katie looked her over. She looked like any other college student in cargo pants and a light sweater. Deidre's long, flaxen hair was in a messy braid, and her skin was pale.
The tailor replaced his cloak of black, and the man with the flaxen beard proffered him a little glass of some refreshing fluid.
Lady Caroline herself was described as slender, graceful, with short clipped flaxen curls with a soft prettily affected voice.
