Height: 5'7
Weight: 136 lbs

Something is not entirely stable in the noxious, amber storms that compose the strange hunter's eyes. The arrogance of elves is unmistakable in her disposition although chaos is prone to decorate the petals of a knowing smile that is neither fey nor born of their blithe peace. Whatever garnered wisdom hinted under hushed tones about the woman seem neither contrary nor befitting her nature.

Standing a few inches over five feet, her appearance caters to the sun elven persuasion: slender and feminine. When her veil is lifted, streams of blond spill down to her waist decorated with wooden beads, crisp, dried petals in pink and the occasional braid bound by bits of twine and leather. The strange woman's skin betrays the true gold of her kin as it is pale and almost alabaster; shining faintly in its wintery smoothness. Although careful observers would note that what exposed flesh she bears under proper lighting is decorated in an array of tiny, white scars likened to alchemical writing coursing her body. Her attire is very practical and lacking the opulence of her kin; bound of leather and mismatched pieces of cloth hosting various pockets and slips for carrying an array of small tools.

Bittersweet saltiness lingers to her scent mingled by perspiration and the faint perfumes that come of a creature better suited to forest walks than city streets. Carefully placated in demeanor and airiness, there is still something not all together right about the woman. One is better left not asking if it is bred in madness or that particular stain of elven ineptitude towards perpetual change.