Arista gently inclines her head, her ruby tresses cascading over her visage to obscure her ivory skin. Her glittering grey orbs scanned the vellum pages of the thesaurus with intensity.
She would not allow herself to lose in this contest. Not since she witnessed the deaths of so many all those years ago would she allow such failures in her life. Even though the reader would have no idea what this exposition was even about, Arista made sure they knew, so that they could not cry foul when she made some obscure statement later connected to an illogical action and could point to this random, nearly pointless sentence that by then would be months old.
On another note --
... .. my God.. what have I started...