Allure is a petite wolfess, topping out at the bare minimum of her species. She stands 2' at the shoulder, from nose to tail tip is 4'1" long, and weights in at a mere 80lbs. Her frame is very slight, yet deceiving as well. Her weight consists of long, lithe muscles intertwining perfectly with strong bone and tendons as if a muscular system were a piece of artwork. She has an average strength for her size, but prefers to use the lighting swift movements her smaller stature allows when faced with battle.

Her entire being is feminine from the thin frame, the bell-like tone of her voice, to the luxurious pelt encompassing her body. Her silky, medium length pelt is of the darkest ebony along her face, bodice, and plush tail. The black only fades as the fur nears the fae's slender rust-hued limbs. Her skull is very aerodynamic, her facial features angular in appearance below a pair of pointed triangular auds. A deadly beauty indeed.

Looks can be deceiving. The sweet, angelic features the fae carries with her day in and day out may be the darkest lie that has ever been told. Allure is simply a fallen angel that has yet to loose the heavenly appeal. Her soul has been tinted black seemingly from birth, the shadow of evil swiftly encompassing her entirety. Sly, quick witted, and intelligent instead of a wolf it has been told she should have been born to the vulpine family. Never has this female found love, and is quite disgusted by the idea of it all. No love for family, her old pack, nor for any brute who has crossed her path. Though she has never whelped a litter of young it can be assumed that she does not have the best set of maternal instincts.

Power and lust seem to go paw in paw and are what drive this young bitch. Her only goal is power no matter what her mission of the moment or who she is within the presence of. A calm, sweet, understanding facade has been mastered over her 3 years and will be held nearly 90% of the fae's life. Although you may know the true Allure you are unlikely to see anything different then what is shown to others. She will easily win the hearts of others and wait until the most opportune time to thrash them with her mental games of torture.

Siren, seductress, succubus, temptress, femme fatale....her favorite type of power. The self centered wolfess believes she is the most enchanting creature to ever grace the earth. She easily uses her seduction techniques against unsuspecting males, luring them in only to smash their ego and their heart. It is by far the most fun game she has ever experienced and always managed to get away unscathed...to this point in life anyhow.

Allure was never the most sane creature. Perhaps that is why her loner mother never came back to claim her after a hunt...or maybe she had been killed. The question of what happened to her maternal guardian never crossed the femme's mind like it may haunt a more normal creature. A poor soul did eventually take the pup under her guidance and looked after Allure like she were one of her own pups. She gladly fed next to the mongrels taking her portion and most of theirs as well.

Power was always her train of thought from the moment of birth. At nearly a year old the ebony hued fae became agitated with her position in the pack. As daughter of the alphess most would have been pleased, however the position she desired was the top. She's a patient wolf and slowly worked her magic.

Step one was easy to complete...seducing the mate of her adoptive mother. The guilt ridden male soon vanished into the woods not to be heard of for quite some time. The secret relationship between Allure and a neighboring pack had blossomed at precisely the right moment. With the alpha male missing the hostile pack was advised of the vulnerable state of her home land. It was only days before war broke out, the young demoness slinking through the shadows awaiting the victory that this surprise attack would bring.

How did such a perfect plan go so horribly wrong? The pack that had raised the youngster had overcome the slaughter victorious. Word of the cause spread like wild fire, burning through each members ears and flaming from their mouths to the next. The adoptive mother that raised young Allure was too kind to order the traitor dead. She was simply run off to hopefully never return again. The taste of power that had teased the tip of her tongue had never vanished through all of her wanderings.