Bow down to your Den mother.
Iris Vartuul the light of the mountain, the first bloom of spring.
The holy drakanite exudes royalty, pristine and perfect in all senses of the word. Her eyes are a nice shade of violet, although at times they seem to flash golden. Iris's skin is pale from the lack of sun, smoother than silk, littered with beauty marks all over. She seems to have a sort of god complex, at times calling herself a goddess, separating her self from the group of mortals.
Even then she extremely caring and kind, loving to all unconditionally. Her white hair is always brushed and sometimes styled in a bun or pulled back with red sinka flowers. Her golden feathered wings are an evolutionary trait from her mastery in the barrier magiks.
Iris demands for all sins to be confessed to her.
Iris Vartuul the light of the mountain, the first bloom of spring.
The holy drakanite exudes royalty, pristine and perfect in all senses of the word. Her eyes are a nice shade of violet, although at times they seem to flash golden. Iris's skin is pale from the lack of sun, smoother than silk, littered with beauty marks all over. She seems to have a sort of god complex, at times calling herself a goddess, separating her self from the group of mortals.
Even then she extremely caring and kind, loving to all unconditionally. Her white hair is always brushed and sometimes styled in a bun or pulled back with red sinka flowers. Her golden feathered wings are an evolutionary trait from her mastery in the barrier magiks.
Iris demands for all sins to be confessed to her.