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There are always people that slip through the cracks. An unwanted child, or perhaps one who's parents died to some illness or political machination. Maybe even a child squirreled away, tucked into hiding where no one would ever look. Auda doesn't know where she falls in that, she just knows that she's always been alone. Memories of a warm place and caring adults are vague at best, though she doesn't suffer some sort of amnesia. The memories are just hazy, lost to strong emotions, hunger, a need to survive more than a need to remember. Her fiesty temperament is probably what kept her alive. Being full of fight means she wasn't afraid to dabble in some rougher jobs, though most of her youth has been spent in kitchens or cleaning, odd jobs at the docks or running messages. Whatever would get her the silver to get her through another day. Now she's an adult, and still running the same lifestyle.

Sandy hair falls around her shoulders in streaks of brown and sun-bleached blonde, wild and roughly curly. Her eyes are vivid emerald, jewel-toned and crystal clear. Honestly, they're probably the most beautiful part of the entire girl, set as they are in a sun-kissed, freckled face. Dark circles often rim her eyes in a beautiful shade of bruise, whether from violence or sleep deprivation, and the bright red of her painted lips so rarely succeeds in distracting. Auda's athletic by necessity, thin by circumstance. Meals are often skipped, and unlike knights or soldiers, she doesn't actually -work- at her physique.

Scrappy, spitfire, too mouthy for her own good. Auda has survived on pure grit and determination, and it's easily seen in bright eyes and guarded postures. She's very, very slow to let people in, but that's not really rare in a city this big. Auda's quick to make acquaintances, of course, but real friends seem few and far between.