The girl skipped about gleefully down the disgusting alley ways which stunk of rubbish and rotting food. While the previous sentence states her a girl, she is more so a woman. An Altalar in appearance, though with a face equal to a middle aged woman of a lesser race, at the later stages of her life. Despite this her demeaning was juvenile and playful, like that of a six year old aristocrat. Full of curiosity and whimsy. An uncomfortable sight to behold amidst the starving and diseased populous that surrounded her as she skipped along.
She moved about with a clumsy grace to her before pausing amongst the gated entry of the Slums, resting herself upon the swing set which hung there. Behind crimson eyes she would greet passerby's with a light giggling in a slow, ominous way. Every so often she would kick her legs out, her giggling erupting into a jovial display of horrific delight. Frequently she would utter a poem to herself.
"Daddy loved me, daddy loves me not."
"Daddy hates me, daddy hates me more."
The poem had no clear motivation beyond the woman reminding herself that her 'Daddy' had ill feelings towards her. When asked who she was, she would giggle before replying in a bubbly way,
"Heehee, I am Sissy, silly, but Daddy calls me Sister."
And there Sister sat, swinging away in the shadow of night for no longer than an hour, before skipping along the path she took to get there.
