Snippet #2768552

Slipping among the gathered was a rather peculiar older woman, peculiar in her stride, her grin, her eyes, and her markings. Her clothes, equal parts dignified and provocative, may have once been a vintage Louisiana noble's blue dress, now tattered with parts of it torn out to fit its wearer. In her mind to allow her more freedom, particularly the legs, to others a shameless display befitting of a witch. This was Bellatroix, a rather contrary creature, who's past would seemingly contrast against the being who stood here today. She was a monster who could take the form of woman or terrible beast, and consumed the flesh of both, called over centuries a boogieman, a witch, a terrifying abomination, and yet...

"Bonjour, oh, oh, I beg my pardon, cher," she muttered, chuckling to herself as she bumbled into a few of the hunters on her way to her seat. As she seated herself, her chair groaned as the metal struggled against her weight, making a few seated beside her a little uncomfortable. Seeing their reactions she simply smiled, which may have made the matter worse in their minds. She then turned her attention to Erika and her speech.