Dressed in her long, fluffy, marshmallow pink dressing gown, she readied herself at her chestnut dressing table, ready to begin. She gathered her thoughts, while perched on her velvet covered stool, preparing her mind for the challenge that laid ahead. Today, was just like any other day for her, but she knew the challenges that she needed to face, and the battles that she needed to win. But right now, sitting there, and enjoying the luxurious feel of the buttery softness of the velvet on her skin, she knew she wasn’t strong enough, to face the day. Not quite yet. She studied her small oval face in the reflection of the mirror, and instinctively, traced the dark circles underneath her eyes, the pigmentation on her cheeks, and the slight receding hairline on the crown of her head. The only signs of aging on her glistening skin, lay two small wrinkles dancing at the corner of her eyes. She opened her drawers and fingered the creams, lotions and serums that hid out of sight. One quick look back at her reflection and she knew where to begin. Carefully, she pulled out her small tub of eye cream, conscious only to use a pea-sized amount, and she dabbed it gently around the circumference of her eyes, caressing it, into her already soft skin. Satisfied, with the first layer of protection in place, she picked up the concealer and iceberg-white makeup sponge and smoothed it over every inch of her face, brushing away all the imperfections that threatened to penetrate her shield, with just one swift movement of the sponge. Picking up one of her many long-stemmed make-up brushes, she glided her favourite full coverage foundation gently across her primed face. As she finished, she admired her work, turning her head from side-to-side, tilting, cocking; making sure that every inch of her would be protected. Impenetrable. With a quick flick of her pink brush, she buffed golden bronzer across her puffy cheeks, like an artist with his paintbrush. Staring intently at her reflection, she wiped a slow smile off her face, as she realised, her camouflage could still be seen. She picked up her jet-black eyeliner, and with one finger pulling her eyelids taut, she drew on lines of determination along the lengths of her eyelids. She was now ready for the magic brush. She picked it up and admired the luminous yellow tube that it lay in and carefully, she flicked the thick sticky liquid onto her eyelashes, gently pulling at the roots of her short hairs until it turned into beautiful butterfly wings. As she finished, she looked at the warrior standing before her, invincible to what laid ahead, and a satisfied smile finally filled her face. She was ready now.