A woman with eyes the color of ice, and just as cold....just the sight of her makes many a man shiver and shake...let alone the sound of her haunting voice that seems to echo in the corridors of the many prison chambers in her camp. Those that make her happy, maybe even make friendship...or more....find the good side of her carver nickname...as she would give them gifts of needed silverware or something....out of wood of course, due to short supplies of metal.
Those that pissed her off, of course...were usually never heard from or seen again in severe cases. But in mild ones...they'd come back from her with bites, scratches, cuts, and whipping scars....maybe even a burn or two...
