[@Fionraella] Misha's brilliant iceberg eyes glinted in faint abandon, reflecting off of the dying light of the fall... season. Her eyebrows jiggled. She ran delicate fingers through the matted hair, glimmering from grease and sweat and stuff. The wind punched her in the neck, metaphorically speaking. 
[HAPPY NOW??]
She kept her distance, narrowing her eyes at his look of horror. "What is it?"