Aelara

Strands of stark white hair fall loosely, framing a face that is both sharp and elegant, with high cheekbones and piercing eyes.
The cloak, made of a material that seems to drink in the light, conceals much of Aelara's slender but muscular physique.
She sits utterly still yet ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice, striking from the shadows before melting back into them.

"Fear the stillness, not the storm. The calm is where I wait, where I plan, where I strike."