The face that looked out at her from the mirror was no longer quite right. Zanna could feel it, the push to change, the itch beneath the glamour. She couldn't remember how long she had worn this face, how many days she had looked into these dark eyes. With a frown, she studied her own image more carefully, worrying a familiar lower lip with her teeth.
A short time later, the Fae brushed her fingers over her face, ran them through her hair. Beneath her own touch, the white gave way to black, the contours of her face changed. The glamour changed, its magic taking another shape, another visage. Perhaps she couldn't leave for a new life, but she could make enough changes to settle her sense of restlessness.
ooc: this also serves as notice that Zanna's PB is changing. :3