River Rehw-dvre

—Basics—

- Ravu-a Zoku, Viera
- Adult
- Chaotic Neutral
- Left the woods years prior

—Appearance—

- Hair like ink
- Eyes of wet grass
- Lean, fit build
- Dirt-scattered face

—Trademarks—

- Isolationist
- Fast to find his temper
- Fine survivalist
- Excellent trapper

in-depth

He spoke quietly, no louder than a crinkle of his leathers, and a huff from his lungs. And it was in that quiet where River lived and breathed. He moved quickly, footfalls a hush, and came wrapped in black hides and cloth.His face was fair, but his eyes were cold. Green as lush wet grass, and pressed into a face dirt-kissed, riddled with a frown hailing from puckered lips. Viera are beautiful. River is no exception. No matter the dirt and the mud on his clothes, the beauty in his blood peers through with long lashes and love.But he was never comfortable being pretty, and River wore dirt like a varnish. It polished his character, nodding to the simplest of fact he preferred his own company to others. After all—his violent start forged his soul and twisted it to make it hurt.Something dark never wanted to let him go.

story

Blood and smoke.River knew it well.After all—grief knows the Wardens like the moon knows night.They are taken as children when the first hint of boyhood is shown. Whisked away by a frowning man, bitter and cold. It was difficult to be parted from his sisters and mother—their warmth was so pristine. Their love bright and honest. They spun flowers into his black hair, and asked him to remember them. It spurred a little boy into years of violence. Years of watching six friends turn into one lone Warden of the Wood.And when he returned to mate—with no more flowers in his hair, his company his own—it was not long until all was black and laced in grim and sin. It reached. It whispered. And took him by the throat.