. C O W E R . C L A C K .
Wands, Neutral, Earth.
Twenty-four.
Though a witch of some renown, Cower has a reserved temperment and is much too mild for any real gang activity. More or less, she's one of Midsummer's retainers- a Coven member whose main directive is healing. Anything, from a cold to a gunshot wound, Cower can handle. She oversees her own apothecary, concocts medicines and teas, keeps meticulous journals for her own medical treatment archives, and has even helped deliver a baby or two (outside of the Coven). Where Cower falls short is bedside manner. Though attentive to her patients, she can be alarmingly direct. She tends to be somewhat stoic in social situations, but given time, the young healer will warm up to those around her. Things like tagging and grand theft auto may illude Cower entirely, but there is some measure of violence that she can respect. Ultimately, if it were not for the rival gangs, she would still have her younger sister- a gratuitous death for which she quite often beats herself up. Since the undead outbreak, Cower has become a bit more in-her-head than usual. She leaves at night- hooded and masked from nose to throat and smelling heavily of white sage and sandalwood- to infiltrate the Necropolis alone. Risking her own life . . . trying to understand the infection. Cower wants to help eradicate the sickness, but she fears there is only one way to do so: by allying herself with a necromancer. Which is much easier said than done. Their ilk keep to the shadows, slink around underfoot like serpents- catchable as air. Cower believes in healing, in staving off death. She's accustomed to solo work, but this time, given the scale, it will be difficult to handle all on her own. Though she hates the idea, she needs a necromancer.