Race: Dark Elfy.
Height: Four Foot, Eight Inches.
Eyes: Lavender.
Hair: Mismatched Blue/Green.

Sylle was a runner, oh boy; was she, and it showed!  She was also an archer, but any strength that she had built up in her years as an archer went almost entirely undetected, leaving her mostly soft, and supple to the glance.

She's got hips, and a nice, mostly skirted, bubble-butt that's almost always snuggled into some ridiculous shorts, or sneaking out from under a skirt that's probably too short.

Long legs feed the eyes right up under her skirt, and you'll see that she's actually wearing panties, that's pretty odd around here; yeah, but she's not one to breeze into the wind on those extremes.  

Slender waist gives way to the rise of her juicy bosom that's pretty much always squashed, and snuggled into either a leather-bound corset, or some other sort of leather-bra, she likes leather; she likes it a lot.

Carries a bow, probably a quiver most of the time as well.  She sucks with a longsword, leaving her nothing but an archer at heart.

She's got no piercings, not even in her ears, she was plain like that, and also because she's incredibly afraid of needles, she rather punch holes in others with her archery-skills, than have holes punched in her, even for the sake of decoration.

Hauntingly sultry, sparkling-purple eyes twinkle and almost beckon in a way when she makes contact to another person's stare, maybe even a smirk followed as well.

Somehow, or some way, she is a dark counterpart to Elfy.

Lights:

Red: Scat, vom, switch talking, animal people, typical, filthy shit.