Kate Greenheart

Full name: Kate Cascade Greenheart

Age: 32, visual; born November 2nd, 1442

Height: 219 cm (7' 2.2")

Species: shapeshifter; Athos, crowned variant, ancient sub-branch

Hair color: green

Eye color: bright green

"You know nothing about me."

The hand of cards Kate was dealt when she was born was the cream of the crop - or that's what she was told, over, and over, and over again.

Such arguments meant nothing to her. They didn't translate into a life she wanted.

Not that she knew what that even would've been. Like others of her kind, Kate was forced to wear a face that was not her own. Countless times, she felt like she had lost herself in the disguise she wore, and the expectations that were hurled at her didn't do any favors. She was never right or correct, whatever it was she did or tried. There was always someone to tell her what to do. She was only an extension of others and their desires. She didn't know who or what she was, or what she really wanted.

What came to the Athos principles, Kate wasn't a poster child by any means. They were a set of hypocritical rules she wasn't going to swallow. The core of it all was the protection of the ward, that the world around a young individual chose for them - but at the same time, that ward's life meant nothing, if a situation required exposing a shapeshifter's True hide.

It was a line she refused to follow. For that, Kate was deemed notorious and disgraced among her own kind. An ill omen - an outcast. She knew she would never be enough. Yet, that creed was drilled so deep into her skull, that she still tried to find her place in it even after secluding herself from her people.

It always treaded the same path, and ended in tears. Kate knew that her heart tended to latch on her wards like a thistle. Instinctively and without realizing, she still sought to protect singular lives she deemed to be in need - and when a ward had been designated, it was too late to turn back.

Humans simply were so fragile. In the end, they always lost their lives - either to time, or to a blade.

Or to things that never stopped haunting her.