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"My songbird..."

"My tender one..."

"My doll..."

"My bane..."

Here is the nymphlike daughter of Heath's untamed southern wild. Her timid nature, childish tendencies as skittishly fragile as any wide-eyed pale doe. She is a tiny thing most often skirting open places for the sensitive comfort of quiet corners, a black-and-white vision of downcast eyes.

The Elf's fleeting form is ethereal and dreamlike, the flawless manifestation of one so aptly named. From a foundling, she was the living, innocent allure of a wispy sweet siren-voice; endeared to the tyrant who laid claim to her for the simple mesmeric lilt of her nature. How hedonistic, then, to train frail young hands in the art of archery, the deadly beauty of fairy-arrows. How decadent. Her very body, fragile essence, and preciously gentle spirit now the dainty commodity of her province's highest Warlord, her hypnotic talents his wizard-magic to wield.

Her lot is one of slavery, of possessive silver chains, obedient decorum, and powerful bonds. Her south-country Elf-kind are those bred to be property.

And her [[Myrken Wood]] errand is one most peculiar, and decidedly morbid.

She is as small as a child, a creature the epitome of delicate, porcelain china-quality. The innocent herald of dreamstuff with an ether-potent mind beneath flouncing doll-curls of obsidian. A dainty face mingling the roundness of cherubic design with the Elfin lines of elegance, so often demure and blushing; a dimpling rosebud mouth; long and sleek earpoints to further accentuate her heritage; birdlike bones supple in a petite build. Yet for all the artistic crafting of features, individually pert and exquisite, the sum of delicate parts creates a portrait face that is, at most, classically plain. Leave her willow-slender as one of the fae-blood, graceful in the Romanesque tunics she prefers, modest even in their slight length and gossamer appearance.

The quiver of arrows beneath her velvet cape is alternately a bouquet of sharpened bolts and stunningly-bright wildflowers. For she will forever be that mix of eternal spring maiden and wild captured female.

Hers is an exquisite rabbit-nature that leaves her often huddled beyond searching glances, white fingers clutching to hemlines, tender smiles the companions of fearful pale-crystal eyes. Since she has taken residence in the upper rooms of the Broken Dagger, she is most often seen as the flitting specter-haunt of the corridor, the black-ringleted doll-statuette perched at the foot of the stairs.

[[category:Characters]]
[[Category:Active Characters]]

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