Filene, Whitefrost Bloom

Unevolved

A flower turns her face toward a sky she can never touch. To wrench her roots from the cold porcelain would break them. She is frozen in place by her family and duty, until the fire of death finds her, and she melts.

Evolved

Steel clashing against steel, frost against flame, the white canvas of the tundra pulsing blue, then red, like a huge, throbbing wound of light. Both warriors buoyed by conviction, neither willing to give way...
―Blackwing and Whitefrost