As the rest of the people gathered talk and get to know each other, one stands aloof. One in a simple garment; a large square of coarse cloth with a hole in the middle for the wearer's head. It drapes loosely around the body and though it covers her from shoulders to knees, there's no evidence that she's wearing anything else save for a wrist ornament that looks like a dark strip of leather coiled around her wrist and forearm, and a leather pouch tied around her left ankle.
Her face is striking; proud and beautiful and wild looking. Even downcast now in respectful mourning, there is defiance around her eyes and lips. Her hair is short and feathered in spiky waves of crimson and orange; a shade matched in her strange eyes.
(visual reference! http://orioto.deviantart.com/art/Phoenix-Witch-62908682 )
As the others get to the task, she moves forward and kneels down on the ghat, hanging her head like a praying penitent.
Finally she gets back to her feet, having reached whatever peace she was seeking, and turns to regard the others.
"When do we leave?" she asks.
Her face is striking; proud and beautiful and wild looking. Even downcast now in respectful mourning, there is defiance around her eyes and lips. Her hair is short and feathered in spiky waves of crimson and orange; a shade matched in her strange eyes.
(visual reference! http://orioto.deviantart.com/art/Phoenix-Witch-62908682 )
As the others get to the task, she moves forward and kneels down on the ghat, hanging her head like a praying penitent.
Finally she gets back to her feet, having reached whatever peace she was seeking, and turns to regard the others.
"When do we leave?" she asks.