Hetra moves with an unsettling grace, unexpected in a gnoll, her limbs fluid yet purposeful like smoke drifting through dense forest. Her coarse spotted tawny fur is mottled with streaks of ashen gray, like the shadows of twilight. Draped in a mantle woven from raven feathers and strung with cracked bones of both beasts and enemies, she carries the ritual weight of her tribe’s spirits. Her eyes emit a faint, pale blue glow in dim light, hinting at her connection to otherworldly visions. Despite her savage visage, there is a subtle softness in the way her jaw clenches—an echo of compassion rarely seen among her kind. Curiously, the veins on her right forearm are marked with swirling indigo tattoos that pulse faintly when she channels magic, an unexpected graceful artistry on a creature bred for brutality.