it wears the colors of the soul
Newly arisen and ancient, Mareta does not conform to modern trends. She has never been one for restrictive clothing rules, and will often wear things which she has worn for hundreds of years, mending them as they require it. She stands six feet, two inches in height, with a figure toned to lean musculature by centuries of combat practice and agility, with blonde hair that falls in waves to her breast and almost avian facial features, her blue eyes almost hawkish.
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Should one catch her in ritual, she will be dressed far simpler than she would for a public appearance, in simple white linen with loosely bound hair, often with bloodstains lingering in the fabric and on her skin.
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She is not what one would call the cleanest of eaters, however, and often goes about with blood on her clothes. This is cleaned off at day's end, in the nearest freshwater stream. She prefers to walk barefoot when in the wild, but will wear handmade leather boots into mortal settlements.
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Jewelry is not a common accessory, though she does possess a few antique pieces that she will dust off and wear for important events and formal occasions. She prefers to be as the woman whose spirit, blood, and knowledge courses through her veins once was; a force of nature, wild and free, unbound by the tethers of mortal bond and mortal heart.