Her skin is taught across a nearly emaciated frame, the slender bones beneath slightly protruding through pale albino flesh, the mark of her magic. A clear feminine physique, built more for stealth and speed than strength. Her headset is proud, confident. A narrow angular face carries tall slender ears and a pale ice like eyes, their pupils serpent like. Atop her head sets a strange formation of skulls and bones, some belonging to her infant siblings taken in the cradle, and others to small bird species when she as first learning her magic. From their sprouts short slender antler like horns. Webbed beneath them are glowing white strands, almost spidersilk like. A small braid hangs beside her face, and is mimicked in her elongated tail.
White Buffalo Robe: A large pale furred robe that rests across her shoulders and back, only on rare occasion. It is adorned with small animal bones along its edges, beaded in various locations. It was crafted for her by Illex Moriens, a talented craftsman as part of her training beneath him.
Jewelry: A crescent shapes bone rings through her nostrils. Small bone rod piercings through both ears. Anklets made from the vertebrae of Takar.
Visenna was born small and frail, the runt of her litter. Her parents were Torvund and Melise, legendary warriors from a raiding tribe. Melise's pregnancy was a difficult one. Her body grew lean, while her belly grew rounder, she was weak and frail and no matter what their primitive healers tried, nothing seemed to improve it. It left her bound to her den. Superstition was powerful within the pack, and while some said it meant her strength was being fed to her children to make them strong, to others it was a sign of weakness and that she could not bare strong children.
Her labor did not do anything to aid these claims. Having grown so frail, it was difficult, especially with such a large number of puppies. After a long night she bore seven children. While many of them were large and strong, already reaching for their mother's milk, there was another they felt would not make it. Born the runt of her litter, Visenna was less than half the size of her siblings, pale and weak she could barely cry. The healers, primitive in their ways, encourages Melise to terminate the child, with such a large litter to spare food for one most likely to die was not wise. She refused, determined to protect the girl and see her grow.
Their first night in the world did not go smoothly. When her parents awoke they found their largest son, whom they'd called Malachai, dead at his mother's side. He did not appear normal, his body seeming to have shriveled in on itself, a dry husk of what he'd been only a few hours before. It was a further omen, and many of their pack began to whisper. Their smallest seemed to have gain a new sense of strength though, having become much more active and able to squirm among her siblings. Melise tried to take comfort in this, and turned her energy onto her surviving children as her husband took their deceased child to the burial ground.
As the weeks began to pass though, Melise watched her children die, some slowly, others over night from no apparent cause. Each death was just as strange, as though they were being drained of their life. The healers became afraid, believing the children cursed, and stopped tending to them. Torvund tried, desperate to save the family he had been so proud and boastful of, he raged against those too afraid to help his mate. But it was of little use. Eventually, they had only three of their children that made it to a year. Watching Visenna grow, they realized the probable cause of their lost children. She was a gifted healer, superior to any born to the pack in generations. Some believed her divine and others believed her a demon, a changeling placed into their midst to destroy them. It was the cost of that gift that unnerved them. It required life in return, for her to drain away the essence of something living and thriving to mend.
In the beginning it was simple, plants and small birds, but it grew, until she turned on her brother Tarak. The pack had planned another raid, and with Visenna's and her siblings at a little over a year old were allowed to participate as apprentices to their chosen roles. Her brother Tarak was big and strong, and he was the pride of his father's eye, despite being rather dull minded. He was his only surviving son, meant to carry the family name and bring them honor as a warrior. Visenna had never known her father's warmth or love in the same way. He had tried at times to reach out to her, to find anything within him that could love her but he could not, not after his beliefs that she was the cause of his lost children.
The raid did not go well. Their scouts had made grave errors in the numbers they were to face, and they were wildly unprepared to face such a force. Visenna was with the other healers, on the edges helping to mend those injured in the raid so they could return. She felt a sudden impact that her sprawled out onto the ground, a strange man above her. Shamefully in that moment she froze as his jaws reached for her neck, and ripped away the fragile flesh and blood vessels beneath. Drowning in her own blood her magic reached out in a violent wave, drying the earth up beneath her until it was withered and black, and she lay dying in the midst of it all, unable to draw enough of that essence to save her life.
That is until Tarak turned back, sensing the trouble in the back heading for his sister. Unlike his father, Tarak had always been fond of his sisters, even despite Visenna's distance. But he came too close, desperate to help her, stepping within the wall of her magic. He fell instantly, gasping as he was drained of his life. She could hear him crying out in pain and anguish. But she also felt a wave of relief, as her own throat began to close and her blood stopped flowing into the earth. She lay there for some time in the pool of it, feeling it go cold beneath her. Something had always felt broken within her, but it severed that day. Weak and exhausted, her pale eyes watched the corpse of her brother for what seemed like hours. She searched for something, anything to feel but it was not there. There was no guilt, or shame, or sorrow for the loss of her brother. Not even the sudden anguished cry of her mother and the roars of her father as they found him.
Torvund knew, by the husk like appearance it was not his enemy who had stolen his child. He turned then hoping to find her dead in that pool of blood. He launched himself at her, ready to tear her into pieces. It was Melise that saved her, standing between them, fighting against him that gave her the time to flee. She did not look back, and has thought little of them since.
She spent a few months alone, searching and experimenting. She was determined to master and push her ability to the furthest extent she could. It was at this time that she met Illex Moriens, a talented craftsman who took her under his wing and began to teach her. She spent nearly a year with him learning and growing stronger. It was he who helped her to make her ritual cloak.
• Stayed with Illex for a long time before she went off to something else.
• Found a dead body, an old one, and decided to fully test her magic on it, and brought Annelseca back to life in a near life ending ritual.
• Has since found and joined Vrolga and began to learn about their goddess and ways.
(I apologize this is a LOT OF WORD VOMIT that I need to clean up and write again LOLOL also bullet points to end it because ffff)
