Hair color- Depends on the month, the alignment of the stars, and how she feels. Currently a bright ginger, which is tame compared to some of her other choices.
Eye color- Hazel/Brown.
Skin- Pale and unmarred save a mass of thin, almost-faded scars along her wrists, ankles, and neck.
Evanna has the penchant for trouble, flair, and natural swiftness of a fox, mixed with the silent and sly nature of a snake. She doesn't deal in fighting, preferring to make her marks in subtle ways. That doesn't mean she couldn't fight- she's trained with a bow and has a dagger in her garter at all times, but she'd rather not. She's more a mixologist than anything- in more ways than one. She can prepare drinks, of course- getting people drunk is an easy way to get information- but her fangs are filled with poison. She's clean and sometimes uptight, and she doesn't like the mess that comes along with bloody fights. Despite a calm, loving childhood her travels grew a cold and apathetic heart in her chest, though to the people she loves she is still quite affectionate.
Evanna doesn't carry anything more than a smooth dagger, one with a worn leather handle that has her initials carved into it, on her at all times. Sometimes she will carry a bow and a quiver of arrows, but she is much more likely to be found with a belt of vials and a snug corset inlaid with pockets of deadly plants on her person. She has a small garden within the Workshop where she grows the tools of her trade, which she never allows anyone but herself to see.
Evanna's parents were quiet, studious peoples, hailing from The Gold coast. They were good, kind peoples that raised her to be a lady. She grew up in the woods, and was unconcerned with many things for a very long time. She learned sewing, reading, and gained friends from every tribe she met- meaning she is also quite good at many different languages. For her first seven years, she was kind, giving, and intelligent. Her parents lived in the woods of the tropical oasis that was her home, and as such she grew defending herself and her home from the plants that grew around her. Many were poisonous, dangerous things. As a child, her oddest quirk was her love of these plants. She grew them, if she could find the seeds needed- but more often she studied them. When she looks back on it, she laughs- she wanted to be a botanist.
Life, however, didn't wish that for her. When she was eight, the sounds of war began to influence even her town. Refugees would sometimes escape into the woods around her home (it was on the outskirts of the Gold Coast, so this was to be expected), and once she even found one dead in the woods, caught in a bush of very poisonous roses. This dead man hadn't been alone, and Evanna's first interaction with an outsider had been curt and terrifying, though what came from it wasn't. The woman was tall, with skin like tree bark and hair like spun gold. Her name was Hecate, and she became Evanna's closest friend for the next year. She was an Ochil, and she taught Evanna her ways with a bow in exchange for Evanna's knowledge in plants. She told Evanna that she'd come into the Gold Coast to escape from the war, that her entire family had been killed.
Evanna still blames herself for not guessing Hecate's endgame. A year after their initial meeting, Hecate asked her to come away with her, back to the Wasteland. Evanna doesn't know why she listened- why she went. Sometimes she likes to think it was a game that God was playing with her. Still, she left her family and hasn't seen them since. She was foolish and young, and the excitement of the adventure was something she will never forget. They traveled through city after city, and eventually they ended in a large place called New Mesa. Hecate asked her to wait in a small little hotel, and of course Evanna didn't listen. She followed after her, and she'll never forget what she saw. Hecate had found her way into a small tavern, where a large, intimidating man stood. They were fighting, and an overturned cup was resting on the bar. Evanna remembers seeing a white Snakeroot hanging from the bar, submerged in the liquid. It had been an assassination attempt on the man, it seemed, but he had caught Hecate in the act. Even at her young age Evanna recognized the foolishness in the clumsy attempt, and had wished that Hecate would have waited to learn about the Snakeroot and how to properly prepare it. Hecate lost the fight with the man, and this left Evanna at a crossroads- with her friend dead, Evanna had no means of living, no means of transport, and no family at all. So, she began to travel on her own as a hired hand. At first, she was a maid in taverns, but soon that put her in poverty and, with no better options, she became a hired killer. With the war desolating almost everything, and a ten year old child with no home living on her own, it became almost her only option. It was shady- but no one suspected a child killer, and she could do it. The first was the most difficult. He was an old, haggard man- rich, seedy, and a member of the confederacy. She'd been hired by a woman that insisted he was the man that killed her husband. She'd paid a handsome sum, and Evanna took it greedily. She killed him with Manchineel mixed with milk. It had been simple- she placed himself as a friend of the man's grandson, and eventually was invited into his home. He ingested the drink she'd offered to him, and she had been gone within moments.
His obituary will haunt her forever, but not as much as she will be haunted by her failures.
She doesn't fail often- still doesn't, even now after the war. Her biggest failure had been her saving grace, however. She'd been thirteen at the time, and the war was in full swing. She'd been living in Farpoint, on hire to kill Arina Blacksmith, an influential woman with many confederate leanings. It had seemed simple, but she hadn't expected her guards. They'd captured her and tortured her, marring her skin with bloodied marks. She doesn't remember her escape all that horribly well, but she does remember the events that transpired afterwards. Someone had helped her, a man that introduced her to the White Group. She'd been taken in by them, and for the first time in years she'd had a home. Even now, twelve years after the initial meeting, she remains loyal to them and works within their walls loyally as an assassin, as a friend, and as a fighter against the Confederacy.