Blaire: Ignis Fatuus

Posts : 1 Join date : 2009-12-10

The Will-o'-the-Wisp, he has no roof,
Yet he seeks not hut nor hall;
He will not wait for a friendly foot,
But starts if a shadow fall;
And never a voice can make him turn,
But the far off winds that call.

The twilight covers the dreaming hills,
The evening dews begin;
There's none to care that he wanders there,
There's none to call him in;
And all the night, with his lonely light,
He goes where the mists have been.

Name: Blaire
Cryptid: Will-o'-the-wisp.
Age: No specific age.
Eyes: They transcend between a vibrant orange and a dark green, depending on her state of mind.
Hair: Long and white, usually a mess from flipping about her.
Body: Small in frame and stature, you might mistake the spirit for a child and a sickly one at that. She's thin and appears fragile, though she is far from it. She is pale with dark circles around her eyes, giving her an exhausted and weary look.
Clothing: She wears a sleeveless white dress with a series of white leather buckles attaching some gloves to it. She is always seen without shoes though her feet remain clean regardless of what terrain she makes her way through.

Additional Info

She is a jittery spirit with a quick temper, though her anger quickly sparks and fades within a few moments of angering her.
She normally will not allow anyone to touch her, but if granted permission to do so she is soft yet icy to the touch.

Blarie is always carrying a lantern lit by an unusual flame that never goes out unless she wills it so. This doesn't happen often, though, because she isn't particularly fond of darkness. Despite this, she by nature tends to stay in rather shady areas or places of low light.

She is a mischievous spirit that often finds fun in confusing others and leading travelers down the wrong paths with her lantern to wander around lost for a bit. One of the things that upsets her the most, though, is being mistaken for a child or addressed as such despite her physical appearance or the childish pranks she takes part in.

Although a tad frolicsome, she is far from a malicious spirit as the majority of her actions are only based on underlying playfulness since she attempts to keep a calm facade at all times.

O Will-o'-the-Wisp, in silver dusk
Who'd wish for golden dawn?
In purple night, with stars a-light,
Who'd dream of noontide gone?
Who would not stray by the glimmering way
Your wandering feet are drawn ?

The dawn comes over the silent hills,
And calls to the winds of morn;
The stars grow pale, and the sun cries, 'Hail!'
To the shadowy fields forlorn;
And good-bye, good-bye, to the Will-o'-the-Wisp,
Who dies when the day is born!