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[Nyxanna ab'Arawn]

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She scoffed as the herbalist bowed running to gather a few of things she asked for. Her face shocked when he called her a Lady of Umbra.
When did this title take its root? Who had passed that out? She was confused and she walked calmly for the first time in years from the shop.

She was young, it was apparent when you looked into her eyes that Nyxanna would forever retain a part of youth that most longed to bring back. While able to beguile others with her sweet innocence even if it involved the wonder and excitement at the resounding boom from the well placed Nyxy type bomb.....

She was tough, there was no mistake, for all her stature and size she had the speed, endurance and ferocity of an ab'Arawn if it was called upon her. Yet she could easily stop and frolic in the dusky winds of Umbra the gentle darkness encapsulating her true heritage. What was she exactly, no-one was really sure on that part. The Lycanthrope side of her claimed itself but then in off moments she was as normal as any other.

What she decided she was, was Umbra, a peice of it, a small part of the land with mobility. She was as in love with her home as she was a lovers embrace. There she found sanctity in the solitude of the Sepulcher chatting randomly to spirits that might listen.

The wood of the shoppe, stood tall above her and the toxic smells and sights of a swamp immediately hit her nose. The Shoppe itself seem to have a sort of energy, she could almost hear a hum or a vibration running thru her as she climbed the stairs. It invigorated her and her eyes lit up as they rested upon her mother. Her face dirty from work, cobwebs plied in Nightshades green hair as the woman moved furniture about and gave commands to those about her.

Something blossomed in Nyxanna at that moment, as she stared at the tall, strong, yet forever young woman that was her own mother. She realized that they shared a common bond that had not presented itself in her younger years.

Youth, she had always thought, that it was the rapid growth of Umbras WIT training, that had kept her in this partially young state of mind. She laughed with her mother as a spider foolishly bit into the flesh of her mothers pale arm, the wicked gleam in her mothers eyes as the creature curled up in a death pose from her mothers own toxic blood. It dawned on her as she pondered the power of her mothers own gift, that perhaps, her youth, her ability to charm a smile, from the stern face of her father was perhaps much more than a simple part of her nature.

The fresh approach of youth, the innocence in her eyes a great power untapped, and she leaned against the doorway like a lovesick teen as she felt the strong sense of home rest upon her. She was home, this shop was her home, and new delights awaited around every turn. Her energy was contagious as she looked upon the swampy grasses below and felt that even the Shoppe itself had somehow come to life, its heart beat rising out of the darkness of Umbra baring the seal that so many shoppes of the land did. She could feel the connection, her hand resting upon the door jamb, each creak of wood now a soft song sung unto her ears...