Shadewood The way these things work out,

"Grímnismál miss, I was born at Cerulean Keep, an isle far from here." It seemed everywhere was plagued with some kind of madness, as even the storms chased the reaper all the way to here. She saw the thunder and lightning, the torrent of rain from distances away. Even the fog, which trapped her so, was all but misfortune. She felt like her life, was just a bad omen.

"My home was destroyed by the weather.. I don't have anywhere to go, anymore." It was said truthfully, with a bit of tears to hold back from. Her claws clenched the holly tightly, like a cross to a priest. Whatever was left of it, was now gone.

"I'm a healer.. I'm still learning, but I know a lot of herbs." A rather desperate act to show herself off, to prove useful toward the Rusalkian's.