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Statuary A man reclined on a pedestal, hand behind his head and worried thought carved into his features. This one, though not devoid of emotion, seemed to have most careful attention paid to anatomy, many a muscle clear and believable in its definition.  A robed angel of such compassionate gaze that it wrote pain into her stone face, the thirst for giving in her wings compelling them forward in a gesture of embrace which her arms mimicked stood straight, her gender apparent only for her matronly bearing and intense facial beauty.  A creature of the wood, a dryad, bent back in apparently rigorous dance, nude. Each detail suggests softness even as it is made of stone, hair in flight as though some witch had turned her to stone at a whim, mid movement. Her feet are dainty, legs apparently strong but showing no particular muscle, arm passing over her privates by chance as the other was thrown behind her, breasts medium-sized and pert with youth, neck long, face pretty, eyes closed in the spirit of her dance.