Eldra Mossbane moves with deliberate steadiness, her gait measured yet unshakably sure despite her advanced years. Her silver hair spills in a thick braid streaked with moss-green threads of woven lichen and dyed flax, a traditional mark of her people's deep connection to nature. Her weather-worn skin is rugged as bark yet soft in places where her hands have cradled infants and tilled soil. Unexpectedly, her eyes gleam a startling shade of deep violet, an ancestral quirk that marks her lineage as touched by forgotten fae rites. Eldra’s fingers, though gnarled and spiked with thin scars, hold an uncanny grace when weaving herbs or tracing signs of warding. She exudes an aura of quiet gravity punctuated by subtle, fleeting smiles that feel like rare gifts.