Where does it End?

The mark in question, a red circle with a crescent moon at the middle of it. It was like a flesh wound from a bite mark and even from this distance it couldn't be mistaken.

Or was she truly mistaken?

But how could it be, surely a birthmark was supposed to be exactly what it is, a mark from birth, synonymous to only the owner. While in that state her legs began to move forward and towards them. It was like her confusion had become the only driving force to her limbs and all the while her eyes never left the mark.

She was almost upon them when a ray of white flitted across her gaze as if intending to blind her. It had her legs bound to the spot refusing it to move, forcing her to see what she had been ignoring.

And thus the picture became clearer every minute, every second and every single beat of her heart. So broad that when the realization hit her, the redhead covered her mouth and fell down on her bottoms.