A spirit of wind made form to that of a elven woman.  She seems to dance on the breeze, to flirt with the wind.  With wisps of hair that catch and flutter, and cloths of loose threads and thin veils that long to be lifted in the breeze, she's often trailed by the dancing parts of her.  A wonderer in appearance, it would be hard to name a home for her, as she picks a piece of everywhere she goes through, sweeping it into her medley of clothes, jewelry, and markings that litter her body and fingers.

In that breeze of woman, in that grace, there is song.  For the shaman possessed in spirits, always rings and rustles.  Tin, bronze, or silver, coins, thin and bright, are often woven in her hair, and dress, with dried leaves in times of Fall.  They announce her coming in chimes, and glisten should the light of sun or moon be bright, or reach them in such a way.  Her complex jewelry, made of nothing too expensive, tends to have of many parts, rattling with every move she makes.

Lastly, is her beauty, a sun kissed complexion, behind a welcoming smile, and eyes of bright green sunk in darker shades of makeup, that often look as if left on for days.  It is those eyes that draw people to an understanding that her young age belies the depth of wisdom found in her.  While her appearance may seem left to the elements, with a certain innocent beauty to them, and she seems lost in appreciation of all around her, there is some ancient knowledge lurking deep.  It is as if she has been made aware of some primordial truth, or drank deep of some wellspring of understanding.  All that disappears however, when we a spring and a hop, she finds some interest in things often quiet banal, as if seeing them for the first time.  That innocence forcing one to wonder if they ever truly saw that depth of knowledge there at all.