very light frame for a night elf and lean build with wirey musculature
slightly pronounced eye teeth
She struggles a little with finding and forming words for spoken language, since after over a century of being only in the body of a cat her elven form, functions and motions feel alien to her.
Somewhere far out in the wilderness is a den beneath a huge ancient tree, one that is a unusual when you go inside. Within the confines of the dirt walled hole is a small-ish door framed by the massive strong roots of the tree, beyond the magically bound door is a single room that contains a fireplace, a small bed and a chest.
The room itself has grown musty and forsaken; roots growing through the walls and chimney, and the bed is sagging with age. The chest defies all of this, perfect and sturdy - merely covered with a thin layer of dust and a light patina of age on the metallic fittings. Preserved by magic, the chest and it's contents remain mostly untouched by age - experiencing only a small fraction of it compared to the world.
Inside the chest clothes, gear, armor and weapons are neatly placed. Who knows when the last time was it was opened, since everything inside shows the craftsmanship of days past. The owner apparently not needing anything on their person but not wanting it to rot and rust.
Some plain clothing is set neatly on one side; a dress, a tunic and a pair of pants. On the other side lies an intricately crafted set of leather armor, with gold thread woven ivy leaves and enchanted pieces of bone and antler adorning the thick supple hide. A wizened yet cruel looking staff lays atop the rest of the the items; sharpened claws and fangs from untold giant predators are trimmed with the vibrant plumes of ancient birds, all attached to a gnarled medium weight staff that thrums with magical energy.
Yet all of these marvelous personal affects lay locked away, unused and possibly forgotten in an anonymous hole somewhere deep in an unnamed forest.
A thick silken pelt of deep charcoal gray envelopes the body of a cat that is larger than most wild cats but not exceedingly so. Broad paws hiding wicked talons move surprisingly softly even at a casual trot in the debris and underbrush of the forest.
Lithe and wiry limbs rise up from the silent feet, leading to lean muscular shoulders and haunches held together by an uncannily flexible spine. Long delicate whiskers bristle out from a short, broad and heavyset muzzle where just the tips of fangs peek down on either side beneath lips sprinkled with a touch of white.
The heavy head tipped with slightly rounded ears that swivel at the slightest sound sits atop a thickly muscled neck. Where the neck and shoulders meet it seems like an ebony blanket falls across the whole body - covering the head, shoulders, back and tail so that almost all the way down the forelegs, about half down the ribcage, and barely over the hips is bathed in the deepest of black.
Intensely cold and intelligent eyes stare out at any who may cross paths with this beast.
Should this body ever be shed, what is left is a slender late middle aged night elf. With hardly any fat or softness to her body, she would seem almost boyish in figure from behind, and from the front her feminine features are slight at most. The likelihood of this is very rare to negligible however.
claws and teeth
Conversations tend to take some time when it comes to her part. On top of that some of Shaerys' choices in words may seem a bit archaic, culture and society tend to change the connotations of things over time (such as the definition of 'gay'). Not generally the chatty type, her voice carries a rich but not overpowering Darnassian accent the rare times she does speak up.
Life as a beast has had a fairly deep effect on Shaerys. Her mindset about the world has come to reflect more the nature of the surrounding wild than the larger view of the world as a whole. Conflicts that happen or are based on things elsewhere do not concern her - they are happening somewhere else. Politics, racism and other bigotry are equally unknown - unless you're doing something to directly impact her life (positive or negative) her position is neutral towards you.
As a druid of the wild, she employs many beastly forms but the large cat is her favored shape - having spent almost a century in that alone. As such her attention has the nature of a stalking predator; little motions and sounds in the environment catch her eye immediately, nervous behavior in people can draw her to focus on them as if they were prey about to bolt.
The other beasts in her come to the fore in different ways; shiny things can be easily fascinating, in the winter she will occasionally sleep for a week or more at a time, and just in general she relies far more on her other senses - touching, smelling, and even tasting a large portion of her world even if she happens to be in her elven body.
Living in the wild on her own for so long, the city is alien and suspicious to her. Should she ever go to visit one she is likely to be easily startled, wanting to stay out of main walkways, and careful about going into buildings.
Herbalism - grandmaster - mostly used for poultices and other medicinal uses
The tools of the trade to survive in the wild are finely tuned and as a large cat her abilities to stalk silently, track her prey, navigate without sight, and go for the kill are top notch.
The form that feels most natural to her long ago moved away from being a night elf. Her druidic trials to learn the other beastly shapes were easy and second nature to her but the one that resonated most strongly to Shaerys was the predatory cat. Originally assigned as a guardian of a forest where her post has since been forgotten when conflict took Darnassian focus elsewhere, she became more and more a part of that forest through living as a beast within it. Her old life, connections, and purpose are almost forgotten and carry much less weight than the world and way of life she leads right now as a large cat.
If at all possible, Shaerys will maintain her feline shape to interact with the world. She favors it over all the other beastly shapes and especially over being an elf where it feels like she is deaf, blind, and slow despite the obvious bonus of being able to manipulate things with humanoid hands.
The lack of interest or response to the world at large has led her people to believe she is a casualty of war and her post absorbed into the larger whole of the woods to be maintained by another. Few, if any, would know who she is (especially not the younger/more recent warders of the forest where she lives), and because of this she is likely to be viewed suspiciously when encountered whether in the wild or the city.
None any longer, her order believes her deceased.
young hunter who thinks she is his 'pet' but the reality is more than a bit the opposite.
Those who would harm the area of land she considers to be her territory.
Quests
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