Sophia

Sophia is an anthropomorphic wolf of medium height and a very slender, almost fragile build. Her fur is light gray with a very soft appearance, while her long, disheveled hair is a dull purple that also covers part of her face.

Her eyes are large and expressive, with a gaze that almost always seems sad or tired. Even when she smiles, she gives the impression of carrying a certain melancholy.

It has large purple ears and a long tail with a purple tip.

The white wings on her back don't look enormous; they're more like those of a small angel. She keeps them folded most of the time and only opens them fully when she's very happy, very excited... or very nervous.

The halo is never perfectly straight. It always seems to tilt slightly, as if it were floating imperfectly.

Her white dress is simple and slightly oversized for her, giving her an even more delicate appearance.

The first thing Sophia exudes is tranquility. She speaks slowly, thinks before she answers, and rarely raises her voice. She's not exactly shy; she simply prefers listening to speaking. She's also very empathetic, noticing immediately when someone is going through a difficult time. Even if she can't solve the problem, she tries to stay close. Sometimes she doesn't even say anything; she just remains there, offering support.

She has a strange sense of humor; although she's usually serious, sometimes she suddenly says something unexpected, like she wants to communicate with pigeons (???)

She finds it hard to believe that others appreciate her. When someone compliments her, she's simply confused. Not because she has extremely low self-esteem, she's just not used to it (which, if you ask me, is understandable).

He loves playing the trumpet. Not to get attention, he uses it to express his emotions; some days they're joyful, and other days... well, slow and calm. The others have already learned to interpret his mood through the music.

He always practices very early: Everyone is still asleep, but from somewhere a trumpet can be heard, not very loud, just enough to fill the air.

She takes great care of her wings: She dusts them, she arranges them, if someone touches them without permission, she gets very startled, she doesn't get angry, she just gets nervous.

She's constantly mistaken for a cat: we don't need to explain this much.

He's always cold: Even when it's hot, he always has something on him, a blanket, a scarf, or he simply curls up in a ball with his wings.

She loves birthdays: not for the presents, but for seeing everyone happy. She's the first to decorate and the last to leave when the party's over.

She cries easily: Not excessively, but any beautiful moment or gesture moves her, like a handmade gift, a song, a letter, a gathering of friends; all of that can bring tears to her eyes.