Tahar Amha (34 mm)

She juggles her daggers like a majorette, playing with her lance or her axe with practiced ease, laughing off the jibes of her male counterparts.
The cold does not harm her; an intense heat radiates from her passionate heart. Snowflakes evaporate into vaporous swirls as they touch her rosy skin.
Under the wind, she shines, all eyes turn to watch her and follow her supple rhythm and her slender step. Then the wind turns, noses wrinkle, nostrils are pinched...
Tahar Amha is beautiful, lively and clever, it is true but she smells of fish.