Kanskje is all tight, lean muscle with the flexible strength of a gymnast. His hip-length white hair is usually worn loose with a handful of braids or pulled back into a ponytail, and he favours bloody red makeup that nicely offsets the tattoo running across the left side of his face. He has a large white tail like that of a rabbit and his legs are digitigrade with clawed paws, with white fur that stretches up to taper off around the middle of his thighs. He favours hardy travel clothes, practical tunics, and crop tops.

Kanskje is a 29 year old Veena Viera who hails from the Rawbewesfv tribe of the Skatay Range — known more colloquially among the other Veena as the Bonebreakers of Skatay. The Bonebreakers are unusual in terms of Viera: instead of living in the Forest at Skatay's foothills, this tribe scattered its villages across the slopes of the mountain itself, and as such are spoken of only in whispered terms by the other Veena and Rava of Othard. While it's true that their ancestors were not abandoned by the Green Word — indeed, the Rawbewesfv Bone Seers commune directly with the Forest through earth-blessed carrion — they are nevertheless considered outcasts who turned their back on the Word by those who do not understand their ways.

And their ways are harsh.

As a kit, their propensity for violence was met with approval and encouragement from the Elders, who were certain that with the right guidance they would surely grow into one of the tribes most fearsome warriors. It was only when he manifested the Blood Sight (the Echo) that the Elders decided he would be raised as a male; his mother looked on with the fervent belief that her son would carve out his place among their most revered Blodsbrødre — the elite male warriors tasked with patrolling the mountains and butcher any threat to Forest. She replaced his kit name with Eyvindur: her lucky warrior.

Her belief blossomed into reality. By the time Eyvindur turned 22 he had completed the week-long Rite of Suffering that anointed him a Blodbror, after which he was welcomed into the tight-knit family of Veena men with whom he would live and one day die. Two years passed in heady delight: Eyvindur existed to hunt, to fight, to slaughter, to honour the Forest with blood and bone, and when he made it to 30 he would finally be able to return to the village and sire some kits of his own.

It was not to be. For Eyvindur, everything changed the night he met the masked stranger who hailed him as my old friend; who spoke of a forgotten past together, of the bond they once shared, and of the ritual he had failed to remember.

Their ritual.

He would need crystals, and lots of them. The heart-fire crystals of the Bone Seers would have the most powerful effect: this was a ritual to ignite the blood and extend the sacred frenzy of the Blodsbrødre, which would allow Eyvindur to reach new heights of ecstasy and power as he performed his duty for his tribe. The prospect of such a gift touched his vanity, his pride, and his ego — as Nabriales knew it would — and it barely took a handful of moons to convince him to steal back to the village and take the sacred crystals.

The ritual was blood and fire. Unbeknownst to Eyvindur, Nabriales had added a crystal of his own to the pulsing glyph carved into the snow: the most densely Light-suffused lightning crystal that Eorzea had ever seen. Blood steamed and poured from his eyes as the Light burned his vision away to white; he never saw the moment Nabriales smiles, raised his hand, and commanded that lightning to strike.

This was, after all, a ritual to ignite the blood.

Eyvindur didn't remember the frenzy, but he knew it was not sacred. He knows he could not hear, could not feel, could not think — not about anything beyond the hot scent of copper and the spirit-deep hunger rending his soul for more, more. He can't say for certain how much time he lost, exactly, but when the Light cleared and his sight returned to him there was nothing left of his village but a congealing crimson scar.

A handful of Blodsbrødre found him a day later, gore-soaked and stinking, kneeling amongst the dead as he prepared them for burning with violently shaking hands. There was no need for them to enquire into the carnage staining the snow: Eyvindur confessed immediately, begged them to end the hunger that made his blood run hotter with every day that passed, but was instead beaten, restrained, restrained and taken to the Central Village to stand trial before their Elders.

In the end it was judged that death would be a mercy. Eyvindur would not be permitted to die until he had repaid his blood debt: he had spilled the blood of 36 Veena, and he needed to repay all 36 with blood of his own before the Forest could forgive him. His banishment would be the beginning of his penance. Eyvindur would leave his name with the tribe as he was no longer of the Rawbewesfv, and he would only be able to begin to forgive himself when enough of his blood had returned to the earth.