I'm kind of having a writers block problem with The Scarred Goddess, so I'm going to work on this a little too. Just so you know, Xotirra is pronounced Zo-Teer-Ah. I'll post more of The Scarred Goddess as soon as I can. Tell me what you guys think of this one.

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Xotirra pushed her dirty, tangled hair out of her face. She leaned over the edge of the precipice. It was only about ten feet to the next ledge. She could make it. The air caught her tresses and swept them upwards as she fell into nothingness. Then a surge of pain vibrated through her ankles as she absorbed the shock.
The next ledge was a little farther, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Again she felt the wind touch her face. She saw the ledge nearing as if in slow motion. Then it disappeared. She tried to look behind her, to see where it had gone, but her neck refused to turn, and instead forced her to look at the ground that was swiftly nearing. Her eyes closed, and she blacked out before she even touched the ground.

At first, I couldn’t believe what I saw. What was a girl doing up here? Then my senses returned and I checked her pulse and breathing to see if she was still with us. I intended to ask her a great many questions, but obviously they would have to wait.
She wasn’t strictly beautiful, but her face was unusual, in a way, with a straight nose and small chin. Her hair was greasy and needed a wash, but would be a dark brown when it was cleaned. A thick, jagged scar struck across her right temple and touched down to her jawbone. I suppose that may have been the thing that made her seem unusual to me. Her cheekbones were so high that they made her look harsh, even while she was not awake.
There wasn’t anything I could do for now, so I sat to the side of her and leaned back in the shade.

Xotirra watched the shapes swirl in front of her eyes. Stars and swirls danced before her eyes. Her eyes felt heavy; maybe she could keep her eyes closed forever. She felt rather curious though, as to why she couldn’t wake up. She felt she was alive in a dream, and she rather liked it.
Gradually her eyes loosened up, and she felt compelled to open them. The slits of light coming through were too bright, and she closed them again.
Her shoulder was shaking. Then she realized something was shaking her shoulder. Why wouldn’t it stop? Why couldn’t it just leave her alone? It didn’t, however, and she was too curious to simply fall back asleep.
Blinking in the sharp sunlight, she turned to her side and was shocked at what she saw. A lad, of maybe sixteen years, sat beside her. He had a strong jaw and merry eyes, and was, altogether, quite handsome.

Her eyes were green when they opened. Not just the lettuce-colored green that most green-eyed people have. No, these were forest green, with deep turquoise flecks. The kind of eyes that you find once every other lifetime. You could forget the harshness of the rest of face if you looked at them. There were things hiding behind them that were impossible to read.