Standing tall, proud but not prideful, beautiful but not vain, the Elven creature stood tall though not stiff and unshakable. She was ever flowing with soft winds or swaying to an unheard rhythm. Should the pointed ears sometimes escaping the veil of her hair not stand as enough proof of her Elven heritage the way she moved, water like, flowing in all but the more distracted of movements coupled with her sharp features certainly would suffice. Hers was a grace possessed of poise reserved for beings that lived those long lived centuries indeed.

The Elven creature was so fond of change at times, sometimes those tresses were raven black, or a deep vibrant red, or even softer and more golden in color. Those tresses which were so incredibly soft as to invite a touch. The hair was left untamed, free. Free to flow, to dance on her agile movements. It framed the happy smile touching soft, plush, pink lips. Lips a pierced tongue might play upon, or teeth giving a playful tug upon when she had a particularly fun thought or was particularly pleased with something.

Her eyes were sharp, a predators, were her features usually not captured by a pleased sort of smile that even touched upon those eyes she could look downright intimidating. Her eyes were as a gleaming sapphire, like the so named precious stone. She was an Elven celestial after all, able to resist the chill and the dark it was only fitting she could see past the shadows, to the truth of so many things. Though hers was not a soul searing sight, no, it too was beckoning, she could see most anything and anyone, but usually never reviled what she did see. More curious than cautious, it would be her undoing someday.

Her wings remained as they were, perhaps the one unchanged facet of what Ellona was, they were soft, silken, and impressively large. Still longer than she was tall in a stand they too like her locks invited a touch, promising comfort and safety within their encompassing embrace. Though every rose has its thorns, and so too did those wings, they were limbs of work, not beauty or trophy, as such she had flight feathers, and they had tiny barbs like an owl, to dampen noise upon her flight. Able to lift with but a soft whisper she was a creature of subtlety.

Her body had the adornments she favored still, those slender rings through her almost always firm nipples, the barbell pushed into her sensitive clitoris. Most everything on the Eladrin spoke of magic, her clothes, piercings, belongings, all of it had the kiss of the weave ingrained in every inch, though the Elfling herself did not reek of the weave as did her belongings.

Her fashion certainly seemed to suit, whether in casual garb, something for fighting or making love in she seemed to favor the more exposed of clothing, while still maintaining enough cloth and leather to hide at least some of the more intimate places upon her frame.

Greens: Do what you want, man. follow your dreams.

Reds: None