Aimee Whisperwind

Aimee Whisperwind hails from the open plains of the Northwest Lowlands, where her pride hunts under a vast and endless sky. She tracks by scent and moves soundless through the tall grass while stalking her pray.

Every third year, she and her pride load their wares and make the journey east to Feranon in the Wild Northeast. The first time Aimee saw the city, she was a cub. She remembers cresting the coastal hills and staring at rings of stone that rose and fell with the ocean, awestruck.

The Azure Bazaar sprawls across the tidal rings, a chaos of languages and goods. Silks of endless colors. Coral jewelry. Sculptures of wood and stone and precious minerals. Her pride's leathers and carvings seem plain by comparison, but they still fetch a fair price.

Between customers, Aimee wanders, mesmerized by the way Feranon's rings rise and fall with each surge of the ocean. The city's central plaza boasts a massive water fountain that depicts the goddess Xelia dancing among the waves while surrounded by fish, dolphins, and other marine life. Its craftsmanship and detail are so fine Aimee swears it could leap to life at any moment.

Aimee loves the grasslands of her home. They are constant and unchanging. But every third year, when she returns to the city that breathes with the sea, she remembers that constant isn't the only way to endure.