Pure white coat || Deep blue gaze || Medium sized, curvy figure with thick, feathery fur ||
Her pelt is a pure canvas of white, the finest duck-cotton of archival quality. Somehow, through all her misfortunate she has remained (physically) unscarred — though perhaps the ghosts of her pasts can be more easily seen in her distant, oceanic gaze.
She knows that life is a coin— and it is never heads or tails, it’s heads and tails. There is never a fortune without a misfortune, and time and time again she has learned that if something positive happens, something doubly negative will soon be on it’s tail. Weirdly, you get tails more than heads.
In her youth she had handled the cards fate had dealt her with resilience and compassion. Each misfortune has chipped away at who she was born to be, leaving eventually what we have found today: a husk. A shadow of a girl who has lost and lost and lost, and gained only pain and mistrust and sorrow. Lye has found that the only way to no longer lose is to no longer play the game.
She has opted for numbness over passion, indifference over care, listlessness over joy. She no longer lets herself participate in the highs and lows of life (of which she’s experienced the highest and lowest of each), and now trods down the detached middle. Most of the time, she is lapping down fermented berries and select herbs to assist with her new, nothing path.