pieniinja
The girl's hair was a bright red; scarlet and crimson and orange, almost like the dancing flames of a fire licking upwards. Not only was it bright, but wild too- glossy, thick and exuberant, and standing out like a beautiful lion's mane as she braved the streets of London at midnight. Sure, it was the witches' hour, and anything could happen to her- but she had something most did not in her little heart, and that was courage.