Appearance

She is cloaked in dreary colors, as muted as her personality. Pale ash and the lightest of creams compose the entirety of her pelt, clashing together softly. Her fur is thick and soft, silky to the touch while offering her a blanket of warmth though she is by no means built for the cold. She is tall and lean, her legs a mile long and her waist narrow, her body built more for speed and agility rather than brute strength. Ashen features are delicate and serene yet often carefully void of emotion. Pools of silver are the windows to her soul, often giving away what she is truly feeling even if the rest of her face remains untouched. Submission keeps a soft hunch to her shoulders, a habit that she struggles to break even without a collar around her throat. She carries herself with a quiet confidence, a regality that she hadn’t possessed since her childhood. There is an elegance to her stride that can’t be ignored. Tried and tested, she does not bend the knee so easily anymore.

Intricate Lichtenberg scarring adorns the right side of her face, neck and foreleg as a result of being struck by lightning during one summer storm. Most of the scarring has since regrown its hair, though stark white now, creating a shattered appearance across her visage. Kissed by lightning, she had harnessed its power, manipulated it to her benefit and it would reflect in the storm clouds of her eyes.

Personality

She used to be soft and demure a vast majority of the time. She bent easily to the will of others and offered a serene smile as she did so. But beneath that serenity, a rage brewed and most didn't know to tread lightly as she does not forget a heavy hand or a harsh command, she keeps it locked away in a box, filed carefully so it might be plucked for later use. Her patience used to be unwavering, she took and took until she could take no more. And then she’d snap. It, still, is a vicious and brutal unraveling as her control slips from her grasp and explodes in a flurry of tooth and nail. Instinct takes over and she unleashes pent up aggression, cutting down those in her path until she is the only one left standing.

A smile still plays gently with her lips, a polite gesture that never quite left, no matter how much time passed. There is an edge to that polite smile, it whispers of consequences. Sterling eyes are a little keener, more aware of the world around her and the value it holds. Her clash with death left a mark greater than she originally realized. She’d been granted this second chance and she was no longer to let it pass by while she sat idle. There is a spark in her eyes, a willingness to rock the boat, to ruffle feathers.

History

At a young age, war would ravage her home and rip her from her family. As the youngest of her mothers children, she was whisked away when the drums of warm thundered, a promise hanging from her mothers lip of her return. But no one would return. Alone in the forest, she sat waiting until hunger drove her from her hiding place. But her inexperienced wandering would not take her home and she quickly found herself lost and barely able to take care of herself.

Starvation would threaten to claim her, her already lean build succumbing to nothing but skin and bones. It is then that she would stumble upon a savior, a wolf slightly older than herself but well versed in how to survive. He would take her in, nurse her back to health and forge her into a weapon of mass destruction. He harnessed the fire in her soul, dousing it and only unleashing it when it suited him. She learned to manipulate those around her, she draw pity and learn others secrets.

But what she craved most, she would never receive. It would take years for her to grow tire of playing second fiddle, of never being good enough, of always waking alone. She would begin to balk beneath his thumb, to pull back against the collar around her throat until one day she would break free. With purpose, she would abandon all she knew, only to wake in a world she didn't know.