[@Framing A Moose]

[i]Melaina...[/i]  It suited her well, even when given by a voice that chimed sweetly as the songbirds in the middle of the day, when the sun was at its highest peek and shined brighter than ever.  Just as it was at this particular moment, though a little too bright for her taste.

She greeted Melaina with a courteous nod then slipped away her hood letting her raven hair, long locks of shimmering black, flow freely amidst the warm breeze of summer, its unmistakable tropical scent.

Her eyes, like precious amethyst they glowed against her skin, porcelain, as she held out her frail, delicate hand introducing herself, [color=a187be]"Elysia.  [i]Buongiorno.[/i]"[/color]  Her Italian accent smooth yet heavy upon the tongue.