Annie adored butterflies. She also enjoyed painting. Often, she painted her arms and her legs with as many patterns as she could fit on her skin; those, of course, were temporary and washed off within the first spot of rain or water to come in contact with it. She had learned to be careful with said paints, however, as some had unfortunately resulted in terrible stains of color across her skin. It was still much to her chagrin the embarrassing memory of walking around Morgan Heights with green and purple skin for well over a week. So this idea was far better.

It was a Henna kit; a temporary tattoo like paint-thingy that lasted from a week up to a month depending on the intensnity of sunlight when it dries, and how well you take care of it. In any case, though she were stuck with really only one color, it would last longer than any of her paints and provide her with more freedom in her art work. She had sort of fallen in love with the mandala like designs that had come on the box of the henna cones, but there was one thing that she knew she must do: butterflies.

Of course, that would be of no surprise to anyone who knew Annie. From bows, to butterfly clips, flower crowns,or anything pretty that she could stick in her hair or on her person was likely to be there. It was simply that butterflies seemed to always revolve back to her.Not only that, her and her mother seemed to have a fondness for them. It was special. It was freedom, and beauty, and the bit of whimsicality that perhaps all of them searched for in their lives.

So, sat cross-legged on the ground in a nice grassy patch of Morgan Heights, the box of henna sat open besides her while her left hand very, very carefully traced over the design of half a butterfly wing on her right wrist. She wasn't left handed, but she had had the foresight to gently trace a bit of pen where and how she wanted the design to be before she tried free-handing with her non dominant hand. So far, with half the half-a-wing down, she had to say it was looking pretty nice.