The lights shone down onto the stage, as eyes from above. The house was packed to the rim, and the heat from the lights made it seem she were the center of the sun. A breeze covered the stage, from the vast fans from stage left, breathing life into her world. She was in the center of attention while there on the stage and all eyes were on her. Nothing could go wrong in her world, with the dizzying lights and the applauding of thousands. She began acting, the fanciful writings; the creations of thousands came to life on the stage.

She had been born in Russia and had found her calling in the world of the theatre, in the world of the thespians. She had been a quiet child growing up in the family's home, but what she lacked in talking; her imagination made up more it. She would daydream during the sunny hours and mostly overcast hours of the day. She'd stay awake at nights, staring out her window at the stars. She'd wonder what her future held, and if it was full of stories. She would watch the people in the streets, observing them and she'd constantly stand before the mirror. She'd try to emulate, act and perform for others. Oh how she longed to be of the stars.

As a present for her eleventh birthday, she got a streak of beginner's luck. She had been rehearsing a school play, when her teacher asked her if she wouldn't mind having her picture taken for a talent contest. Angel agreed to the picture and had it taken. She had taken part in several such contests and this contest didn't seem all that special. The picture had been taken and was sent, to the United States. Days came and went, even weeks passed as quickly. Still there was no sign or evidence from the contest. Then one night when she after the opening night of her school play during the small party afterwards, the principal of her school came up to her. He told her about the contest and that she had been chosen out of only a few select from Russia.

The next day she picked up the tickets. Her destination was New York city she'd receive advanced training there. Years passed and she learned from the greats. She learned from the musicals of Broadway and the times of the Big Apple. There, she trained to partake in the legendary plays of the theatre. She learned arithmetic and literature, and the other educational fields at the institutes of theatre. Dance, and tumbling quickly became her friends. She learned how to handle and fire pistols from prop pistols and real pistols loaded with blanks. She became so good at handling firearms that she could strike a sparrow from a banister or the drop weight if in a hurry on the other side of the stage. It was a way to keep track of her schedules and showings. She grew to have a knack towards reading people's moods and what words meant without being spoken. She understood the very balance, the soothing, the soul of poems and her own acting. She expressed herself, not with scripts or paper but with feeling deep down she understood what it meant to have mortality what she could call forth. Her voice soon became known. Her face and name grew to be known in the world of art.

She was taught to ride shortly after she turned seventeen by a teacher of hers from the theatrical company in New York. She learned out to ride as she felt the horse beneath her and the hooves pound the cobblestones. She practiced riding when she could. She learned how to ride but soon, two years down the road she wanted more. Twenty-first birthday, she was shown and given a a black stallion. Its flanks shone in the day and it was a beautiful animal she named "Comet."

She ran into, or met up with Krow and his family. She started to hang around with them while still occupied with her career. One day though, she had fallen deathly ill. A plague of sorts or a lethal poison. It mattered little as she was dying and her fans knew it. She had been moved to the isolation wing of the local hospital since they didn't know what the problem was and they couldn't identify it. She spent weeks there until one night when Krow showed up outside the window in the door. She watched him from within the isolation room she inhabited. A wash bowl was near her on a nightstand. She began to heal, to grow a stronger resistance. She went to Krow after being let out and was Embraced by the leader of the clan. Somewhere along the line, Krow was killed by some zealous hunter. She's kept her career of movies and acting up but she's had to move where her new family has moved to and that is London. Though, through it all, she still held fond memories of her husband Poitre who died shortly after her daughter. She's never remarried. She's led an eventful if not eccentric life and has had a more than exciting career. She learned how to drive over the years but only decided to go so far as what would be comfortable. She learned a bit of things here and there over the decades.