Who is the fawn known as the Archdruid Celawyn's woodwitch?

A petulant little brat, according to the elder wizard Celawyn once hired to guide Kalithiel's sorcery.

A spirited young woman with a refreshing outlook, to the Captain of the Guard retained by Celawyn to teach Kali the finer points of elven archery.

Sailors who ferry Celawyn and Kali from port to port think she comes from long forgotten isle of polynesian elves.

The angular elven eyes and delicate nose, the high wide cheekbones, and the deep earthy hue of her silky skin create the polynesian illlusion.  But the perfectly tipped ears and the mystic gaze of shimmering emerald peeking through her bangs betray her purely elven blood.

Kali's aerobic pixie figure and primitive attire mark her as a daughter of the Wild Elf clans, and though she always smells freshly bathed, her hair has the untamed neatness of being simply combed with her fingernails.  The long minky tresses shroud her neck shoulders but fail to hide the one of two lovebites that almost always brand her neck.

A suede choker braided like a sailor's rope necklace snugs an ivory coin to the hollow of her throat, engraved with the Archdruid's seal.  A chain forged from thick mithral rings big enough to be hooked by the Archdruid's warrior fingers rolls against her neck, just tightly enough for Celawyn to keep her tantrums in check.

Petite but physically fit, Kali stands in the Archdruid's shadow like a tawny fawn under a bronze unicorn, with Celawyn's chiseled Gold Elf physique towering almost a foot above her.  Her short svelte legs taper smoothly, packed with supple muscle from trying to keep pace with the Archdruid's longer strides, with a taut and perky peach bottom no bigger than the cup of Celawyn's hand.

Kali's narrow hips and nearly flat, pert bosom are too small to bear or nurse children, and Kali openly dismisses any gossip about Celawyn's future heirs as goblin spit on orc balls.

In the custom of her clan, Kali's clothing is minimal, usually short skirts and vests of suede or silk.  A bangle of petrified wood carved with protective runes hangs from each ear, and a sapphire rose dangles from her flat tummy's navel.  The flowing robes of higher elves make her fidgety, but she wears them on occassion in her own comfortable, if revealing, style.

She refuses to betray the lands of her Wild Elf fathers by claiiming any family name, but a runic vine tattooed around her upper arm binds her to those lands.  Her loyalty to the Archdruid is even more intenesly savage, and anyone capable of reading the language of Gold Elves will see Celawyn's signature elegantly twined with two roses in the tramp stamp tattooed across the small of her back.

Kali's light, raspy Sy'Tel'Quese is punctuated by the faint clicks of a mithral sphere against tiny ivory teeth.  Her powers are borrowed from the land around her by blending her voice with the wilderness' natural rhythms in witchsongs, rather than chanting spells.

Kali's stubbornly primitive views raise elven bigotry to new heights.  She thinks tact is something to hang pictures with.  Views differing from what her fathers taught her are your problem, not hers.  And Celawyn is the only person born outside the tribes of her fathers worth consideration.  

Changing Kali's mind is a monumentally heroic task.  She will defy the gods themselves to defend the teachings of her fathers as absolute law.  Yet she will bend to even the most trivial of Celawyn's whims.

In fact, the best way for any fool to waste his afternoon is to suggest that the sun and moon don't actually, literally, rise and set in the Archdruid's pants.