Delrae Dysier was only three years old when the new viceroy to her father, King Bartholomew came to the palace. It was then that she fell ill. She was by far the most beautiful child in the kingdom. She was raised in solitude, wearing masks and hoods to hide her appearance. Then when she turned thirteen, she was taken to the depths of the dark forest and left at a small shack to rot away in her seclusion.<br/><br/>She was sitting alone at her little hut, being unmasked and her natural self. Her only companions were a solid black cat and a very rare white raven. She was humming to them, petting them and sitting by a small outside fire. The fog was surrounding her and her only making her seem like a ghostly silhouette. Her long silver hair fell down her back to her hips and her skin nearly as pale as the fog surrounding her. She shivered and stopped singing, pulling her cloak on over her shoulders, putting her mask on and pulling her hood up quickly and looking around.<br/><br/>She could sense the presence of other people. She didn't know how, but she learned to hone that ability. She placed her hand on her katana and looked around, standing in a ready stance. "<span style="color: #00FF00">Who's there?" I can sense your presence. Show yourself.</span>" She commanded and squinted. She waited and breathed steadily, her breath wafting from the mouth piece of her mask like smoke. The cool breeze blew the few strands of hair from under her cloak and she kept her guard up.<br/><br/>She knew she was being watched. She could feel their aura. It was powerful, large and strong...if she had to phrase it with one word...beastly. She shivered, knowing she could possibly lose but she wasn't going out without a fight.  She drew her sword and held it to one shoulder, with both hands. She closed her eyes and readied for the attack. She knew it was near and she was steadying her heart and nerves. Then opened them and waited for her hunter to make their move.