You raised breathtaking, with victory and death in your look, your face twisted into a grimace. Your body rested, calm but tense, all your weight on one leg. He who dared to defy you would never get up again, claimed your frown and the fury in your eyes. And it was asserted by the rock in your hand, ready to be fired by the slingshot laying on your back.
People moved around you, fascinated by that eternal tension announcing your attack, attracted by the beauty of your body and the strength of your anatomy. But later, they deserted you to go to another room. I didn't. I stayed, looking at you, looking over your body, your sharp nose, the ringlets in your hair and your powerful hands. And I wished to be immortalized into a statue too, to gaze forever into your terrible eyes.