Profile of Rhychdir

A quilt stitched together, the bastard daughter of a bastard, the Bradshagh's daughter is him in every way but the colors of her pelt. She resides as a clash of two pelts placed together in a unique set of markings that leaves her undeniably recognizable. With her father's red-and-white hues, with her whore mother's gold-and-white hues, even her eyes reflect the two halves of her birth. A right eye, a dash of her mother, holds an ice blue, frozen deep inside, while the fire of her father resides in the left, with an eye of crimson passion. She walks upon the pink pads of her mother's paws, while the pale flesh of her nose and lips resembles the almost yellow-hued pink of her father. Almost pristine from scarring outside of life's hardships, there is one marking that sets her fully as a Bradshagh. The marking given to them at birth starts at the bottom lip, halving her chin, all the way down to the curve of her breast; the distinctive Bradshagh scar. Her voice is a rough sound, a harsh dialect, the sound of a Celtic lineage, her voice holding no more emotion than her frozen eye. Her lips rarely trick themselves into a smile, and her tail rarely shows enthusiasm. Her gait is the march of the Bradshagh, inherent anger at the world that burns as brightly as the lava they say they spawned from.