<span style="color: #40BFFF"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Gwendalin wore a gentle smile as she strode with quite footfalls across the grass.  Tonight, as she did many evenings before bed, she opted to take a walk through the woods.  Usually, by the time she was worn down and relaxed the public park was empty of late-night romantics who wanted to spend an evening cooing at one another.  That usually left it a barren place perfect for sleeping in.<br/><br/>Her hair, died a light blue simply to stand out, was held back by a simple headband that matched with the only dress she still owned.  It lacked stains thanks to her tedious care of it.  Plus, it didn't take a genius to sneak your clothes into a laundromat after the establishment had been closed for the night.  She managed to do that at least twice a week without getting caught and thus didn't look quite as grimy as the other homeless people her age.<br/><br/>The simple dagger that Gwendalin had once stolen from the carnival man was slipped snugly into her stocking.  It was quick and easy to grab if she needed it.  Not that she ever had, of course.  Most people who tried bothering her gave up quickly enough when she screamed.  A high-pitched voice, she learned immediately after leaving her home, was her best defense against unwanted company.  People had a penchant for noticing unpleasant situations when there were loud noises involved.<br/><br/>As she ventured forth, weaving through trees in a lazy, mindless pattern, a gentle hum began to slide smoothly from her throat.  The gentle rustle of leaves in the constant, light breeze was plenty to drown it out if one was not to listen carefully for the sound.  The girl's hair, short and just slightly dirtied from a day without washing, played in the, warm shifting air as she hummed.</span></span></span>