Of an average build, slightly above-average height, Enovia's mixed parentage may escape notice at first. She's very pretty, yet years of animal bites, scratches and maulings have left their spiderwebs of scars on her otherwise even skin. Her good eye is a sharp blue, her long hair an almost white blonde. Her limbs are well-toned with lean muscle, her curves modest, yet even. Her ears are long, though not nearly as long as a full-elf's, the ends a bit ragged. There are no improbable scars above and below her eyepatch, merely the hint of some burn scars. Generally Vee is quite friendly, if rough, her default expression a focussed, contemplative frown. She walks with an assured strut, often accompanied by her Dragonhawk, or her large Cat.
((Art used with permission))
((Half-Elf ruminates on the loss of someone who showed her shady bum a good turn once.))
Vrin was my boy. Saved him from a tight spot once, so, when I decided to make some coin on my back, he happily agreed to pay back his debt to me by being my unofficial bodyguard. It worked well, him being a Bruiser and all, and preferring women his own height. Became a right good friend...
Yesterday the Bastion did some busywork with the Blackrocks, disrupting a cultist supply train to Hyjal. Our job was to make our way through, deal with some big bads, and then destroy the portal. I like things like that. I keep myself loose, aware, and then I'm all the more quick with my reflexes.
I'm not one for writing, really. I should. The amount of traveling and wandering I've partaken in, the things I've seen in a relatively short time, all bear chronicling. But just like my restlessness drives my feet, it doesn't leave much attention for scribbling! A new friend has helped with that, though. Lathrien mixes a mean pipeweed, and no lying.
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