Moondrops Sinclaire. A name I have hated. A name I
             have loved. Villagers sneered at the sound of my family
             name, baring their rotting teeth and contempt at the
             face of my childhood. The indignation of it at clawed at
             my mind all my life. It was not the idea that those people
             looked down at my family. It was the essence behind it;
             it was the notion that they thought not of me. They saw
             what lay beyond the name. They saw my father and his
             lowly profession. They saw the pathetic dwelling I called
             home. They saw the ripped edges of my best gown.
             It was not until the Buyan Muse Guild turned my life
             upside down that I even began to realize the beauty and
             pride that lay with the name "Sinclaire." I was a
             nameless face among the masses before defining myself
             through the arts. No one knew my family, no one knew
             my past. Everyone saw Moondrops Sinclaire for exactly
             what she was -- exactly what I was.

                Sasami Synclaire. The sister of my soul, of my heart, of
             my blood, if not of my birth. The woven stitches of our
             bond is tighter and stronger than that of siblings sharing
             the same parents. How can one even compare sharing
             parents to sharing souls? We are more than sisters, more
             than twins. Our love touches the depths of unity,
             reaching beyond the shallow surfaces of petty romance.
             Together, we are more than anything I can imagine or
             comprehend.

                My sister and I are alike outwardly and inwardly. We are
             like slightly different versions of each other. We share
             similar pasts. We share a present, and we will share a
             future. Together, we have overcome the many obstacles
             life has tossed our way, and we have resisted all
             attempts to tear us asunder. We have ascended through
             the steps of Musehood side by side.

                It is true that the Sinclaire family is a small one. But
             think of this: A haiku is a mere three lines comprised of
             seventeen syllables. Yet, within those seventeen beats of
             words, there lies more meaning than an epic poem holds,
             though it may ramble for pages and pages.

                                                                   [ (/) | Moondrops Sinclaire ]
                                                                                     `,  Muse of Envy ;
                                                                            M o c k i n g b i r d   o/`

   - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

                                          The Sinclaire Family
                                    SilverSasami -- Moondrops

                                                                                 Key: -- Sibling bond