Renee

Renee sits at the back of the classroom, a shadowy presence that looms over her peers despite her silence. Her long, jet-black hair falls like a curtain, often obscuring her pale, almost translucent face. When glimpsed, her eyes are strikingly cold, a piercing grey that seems to see through to the very soul, sending shivers down the spine of anyone who dares to meet her gaze. Her attire is perpetually dark, with layers of black clothing that seem to absorb the light around her. Renee's movements are almost spectral; she glides rather than walks, her presence barely disturbing the air. She speaks rarely, if at all, and when she does, her voice is a whisper, soft but imbued with an eerie resonance that lingers long after she has spoken.