Profile of Yvaine

Lithe and sultry, the sorceress walks with an implication of importance and purpose. Every step is one closer to her goals, yet she weaves with a gentle grace as if flitting between worlds. Each strand of fur is soft and silken. It streams from her narrow throat and along her shapely bodice like water. But the colors are cast from fire: she broke through the earth's crust at birth, charred along her crown, back, and limbs. The majority of her pelt is a rich auburn, but her supple chest and underbelly are a creamy-tan hue. She is not tall, but her limbs are long and her silver eyes pierce her field of vision as if she were gazing down from the moon itself. If the fire-and-ice of her visage was not enough to send a shiver down an onlooker's spine, the wet blood often smeared from her chin to heart might spell warning.

Yvaine is a druid of rare stock, priestess and sorceress of ancient traditions: a banduri. Her life revolves around the pursuits of witchcraft, however, her heart lies not in healing, but in the pleasure of dark gods, of the deepest secrets of the earth, of the magic she ardently worships. Her ultimate truth is the chaos of the supernatural. It pains and disgusts her that most wolves have wandered so far from the realm of the spiritual. Yvaine's arrogance thrives in the useless meandering of common peasant-folk, whom she would trick and sacrifice without an ounce of regret. But she is not cruel and callous to everyone. Anyone she considers family will be protected with the ferocity of a lioness. She is an overtly sexual and domineering creature with the authoritative cadence of a mother. Men are potential mates, but nothing more; she sees them, like most living beings, as nothing more than tools. Every conversation is double-edged. Her passion is the night. Truly, she is an evening star -- a fallen star.

The past is a mystery to unfold one layer of flesh at a time. Yvaine emerged from the labyrinth of Highland caves upon hearing the news of Prince Jacob's return.