air — the witches of air are plagued by misconceptions, most believing them to be fragile and wispy. they are the very creators of tornadoes and cyclones, the voices behind the eerie howling of the wind. unexpectedly violent they love to stir up trouble, their curses carry for miles and the birds above do their bidding.
fire — they dress in shades of black and red, their makeup is sharp and their fingers spark to light their cigarettes. witches of fire are hotheaded and quick to anger, and have a love of experimenting with spells that cross the line. they are beautiful in the harshest of ways, with wolfish grins than warn men away.
water — often mistaken for sirens or mermaids; they are elegant and graceful, their every move a fluid dance. they are aloof and shy, but playful to a fault. they wear dresses of silk and chiffon and decorate their rooms with sea shells and shades of blue. mist rises from their finger tips and waves are conjured to keep prying eyes from coming too near.
earth — they have an affinity for animal companions, namely black cats, and cherish the feel of grass beneath their fingers. trees whisper secrets as they stride past, ivy twines itself through their hair and herbs offer themselves for the purest of spells. they make their homes in the very woods they’re born, rooted to the land of their ancestors.