She was like the spring -always flourishing and blissful. She was exceptionally bright and her presence was heavenly. With a buzzing, forever lively mind, she could make the rainiest days seem cloudless. After a lingering sleep, she would awake like a blossoming rose ready to spread joy across the land.
“And beside them was standing Achlys, dismal and dejected, green and pale, dirty-dry, fallen in on herself with hunger, knee-swollen, and the nails were grown long on her hands, and from her nostrils the drip kept running, and off her cheeks the blood dribbled to the ground, and she stood there, grinning forever, and the dust that had gathered and lay in heaps on her shoulders was muddy with tears.”