Her hair had been gathered into an elegant knot at the back of her head, still carrying traces of the same rich brown that dominated Mirabelle's own curls. But time had woven silver and white through it until the colors blended together like winter slowly overtaking an autumn forest.
A long, intricately carved hairpin held the knot securely in place, its branching shape and delicate texture resembling a piece of pale coral taken straight from the sea.
Her lynx ears stood proudly atop her head.
The characteristic dark tufts remained, though even they had begun to fade, individual strands touched by silver-gray.
The same signs of age showed in her long tail. Brown remained beneath, but gray and white hairs now threaded visibly through the fur.
Her clothing, however, looked nothing like anything Mirabelle had seen in Bergheim.
The fabric wrapped elegantly around her narrow body in flowing layers designed for a much warmer climate.
There was no heavy velvet.
No thick embroidery.
