Wrapped in delicate ivory fur Indira was graced with beauty. Her slender legs and lean body might seem bland and easy to pass over, but that is not the only thing that can be found upon her body. Various glimmers of gold can be found adorning her body, wrapping around her claws and nose and lining her ears. Similar gold coloration can be found around her eyes, emblazoned like flames. She is dominantly white, her fur lush and silky to the touch. She is not freakishly tall, but rather average in height and weight. Her neck is a bit wider because of the muscle that had built to compensate for the large antlers that grow from her head.

If this was where her extravagance ended she would surely be overlooked in a crowd. As a hybrid part of her genetic makeup is Earthborn. Draped across her back on either side thick, velvet-like moss trails down her sides and some across her shoulders. Thick, mangled vines can be found upon her in the same fashion, attached to her fur and skin as part of her. The foliage is dipped in gold as well, it seems, shining in the light and yet gentle to the touch. It thrives in sunlight and dulls in the winter and colder months yet still never seems to lose its luster. It is as if it was dipped in the finest gold from the veins of the gods themselves. Large, thick lotus flowers sprout from the moss and vines as well, a pale white in color with gold trimming their petals.

The only deviation in the two colors is the brilliant emerald green of her eyes. She is quite a sight to see, especially when paired beside her equally as divine sibling. There is one blight upon her beauty, however. She is cursed, the Mark an upturned crescent moon that is a deep black in color. It is surrounded by burned, scarred, mangled skin that sometimes can be successfully hidden by the moss that grows from her back. It is certainly an eyesore to some, but generally does not stand in the way. By nightfall her beauty grinds away almost instantly.

The moon brings forth a fierce and bloodthirsty beast from Indira. Her snout elongates to accommodate longer and sharper teeth. Her antlers shed from her skull, her fur falls off in clumps and dyes a wicked, inky black in color. Her eyes bleed into a sharp gold color, the slit pupils remaining in tact. Her hipbones jut out against seemingly paper-thin skin, her ribs poking out and her claws gangly and unruly. Large, feathered wings sprout from her sickly shoulders, the feathers greasy and liable to fall out easily if under too much strain. Scabs and open sores spread throughout her body, making the mark of the cursed that sits upon her flank feel at home. It is not contagious by any means, but many tend to flee or steer clear of her. Her hideous and sinister visage would not be complete without the final additions upon her wings. Along the arms are six eyes, the iris a deep scarlet color, the whites not white at all but a glassy, yellowed color. They flick back and forth, sightless unless Indira uses them. This could be an advantage or a disadvantage, depending on how they are used and when. One would never be able to tell that the white and gold she-wolf could turn into such a hideous and wretched monster.

She is a carefree and jovial spirit. Or at least it would appear that way. She is nonchalant and open minded, listening quite well to others and their opinions. Her intelligence knows no bounds and she likes a well-spoken creature as much as the next broad. She is creative in many ways and keeps her mind open to new things in this respect. To many she would be the ideal one to sit down and have a conversation with and perhaps even become friends with. And while she has all of these seemingly wonderful traits, she uses them for all of the wrong reasons. Her creativity could be used towards how she might maim a creature or some of her own kin, or perhaps how she will lure another in to the killing grounds, so to speak.

She uses her intelligence to think her way around others' defenses and sees it as a challenge every time she meets a new person. In this way she is quite competitive, her energy boundless and alluring. She is not narcissistic, no, but she does acknowledge that she could turn a head or two on occasion. She uses this to her advantage, luring in her prey to try and sate the never ending blood-lust that runs through her mind like a plague. Either that or she simply could use it for fun. A tease, more like. She likes to wriggle her way into the lives of others, and never does it end well for her target.

She cares not for any other, using and abusing until she is good and ready to move on. She is aloof and cunning, wild and untamed and aims to keep it that way. Her sister's dominant personality does not run through her, at least not to the extent it does for Eve. She tends to thwart authority if one tries to use it on her but she does not go out of her way to dominate another unless it is to sacrifice a creature to her beloved Ixion. Indira simply does. She is impulsive and compelling and has the potential to do many great things, but she doesn't want to. She loves her sister dearly and Eve is about the only one she could truly ever care for. Indira finds comfort in touch, which others might find weird for her. She doesn't mind it at all, and it is about the only quirk she has. Well, besides her vicious blood-lust that turns monstrous at night and amplifies by many levels.

Analise was a devout woman, brought up in a Sanctuary that worshiped both gods, Sol and Luna. She had pledged her life to them, a life of servitude and celibacy to honor them. She was young, beautiful, a favored priestess of her Sanctuary and those that she reached out to help. Everyone knew of her spoke of her great promise and favor with the gods, and how she would do wonderful things. It was a tragedy the day she went missing, so many looked and wept for her loss. Many found comfort in the thought she may be in a better place, embraced by the gods, but she had reached a new level of hell. Her captors were two rogue males, Isilzheha and Anor, cruel and barbaric beasts that fed on her every tremble and shiver. The priestess was soon stripped to her core, shattering all she had ever been, barely surviving the year she spent with the two males, victim to their sadistic appetites. Within the next year, she became pregnant, much to the disinterested of the two that held her captive. She soon gave birth to two white daughters, adorned in the mark of the cursed.

Despite the cruelty of her captors, and her pledges to the gods, Analise was a rather doting mother. She tended to her two daughters, struggled to defend them from the cruelest actions of their father’s, but she realized quickly how her daughters were morphed into the vile things they would become. Despite her best efforts to nurture peace and love for the gods within them, they seemed sick to her like the males that had put them in her womb. Eve, especially, lingered after Isilzheha, taking every vicious attack and brutal rape as if he were a lover and not her captor. The actions and mentality of her children frightened her. Eventually, the woman found her escape, and though she tried to bring her daughters with her, the refused and stayed behind with their father’s cruel pack. The mother’s disappearance was perfectly fine with Eve, as well as their fathers. For some time the two sisters stayed with their father’s pack, but eventually split off in search of a new home and more trouble to get themselves into. Soon enough they found themselves in Adymeria, and learned of the Sol and Luna gods along with another they desperately began to serve. Ixion the blood god.

Devoted to this god, they began to make intense rituals in his name and honor, typically a loner they would stumble upon and seduce away from prying eyes, maybe a lone pup they found or a strong beast, even the blood of their own bodies. One evening, hunting for their next blood letting, they came across a familiar face, the same golden eyes that lay within their skulls on the pale woman’s face. Their mother, Analise, greeted them as if they were friends, eager to tend to them and see to their safety. Wicked intentions brought them to the Ghostflowers where their mother had found a new refuge and another way to serve the gods Sol and Luna. With silent agreement the sisters tortured and sacrificed the woman on the flowers in the name of Ixion. A mistake on their part, as the gods had granted Analise much favor for her devotion through so many trials of her life. That night they were taken by a blood curse, a deep and unsettling aching thirst that could not be entirely quenches, and grew more intense for each in different ways. Each would become a beast in search of their meal but never find it.

A year or so has passed since they were cursed, and now they linger and wander Adymeria, drifting apart and back together again, seeking one another and blood to feed themselves and their bitter god.