and the beast  finds hertself in foreign lands of beauty and history and romance and finds  herself scared.
doesnt know why.
sometimes it catchs up to her. this fear. irrational fear that paralyses her and clouds her mind with crazy ideas and thought patterns.
 SHE CANNOT BREATHE. when this happens.

This was not the point of the birth of the beast. The BEAST was born to gather wings and to open them wide and to let the air into her lungs and open her guts up to faith and to be transforming into herself.
not to be paralysed.
constantly blossoming and transforming is what the beast needs.
and here she is in paris. walked across this city like it was her own kindom. Queen of france baby. thats what the beast should feel like. The day cloudy sky should not decide her mood.