Saskia

The leaves tumble down the stairs first, just as they always do. Each one proudly displays the muted colors of fall. Behind the leaves the sluagh-artist follows, her art case tucked under one arm. She is lean, more than lean closer to malnourished. Her hair is dark, a true black with dark blue highlights. Long and straight it falls past her shoulders and is cut at a strange angle. It gives her an almost punk sort of look. To fae eyes all these things are exaggerated. She is nothing but skin bones wrapped in a long, tattered, black, pea-coat. The sleeves of the coat are covered in patches. They have strange lettering, perhaps the Cyrillic alphabet. The coat is buttoned almost up to her chin though it is summer. Her long legs are covered in a pair of black leggings and knee high boots. One side of her dark hair is swept back with a spider shaped clip. Her skin is pale, translucent and without much color. Her lips and eyes a matching black. Just beneath the collar of her coat strange shadows can be made out. Shadows that seem to twist and turn against her skin. They look a bit like tentacles.