Ragnelle positively blossoms, kissing back lengthily, her nimble fingers reaching up to unfasten her long dark hair, so that it sweeps forth like a branch of sweet fir. Her gown is a rich green silk that half-blends with the woods around them, and the delicate vine that grows out of her hair, as much a part of it as any part of herself, is another colour of green entirely.

She has certain distinctly foresty aspects, and being deep in some emotion always brings them out; her fingertips are silky with with a very very fine growth of tree moss.