Long dark hair with an almost iridescent sheen, amber eyes that shift when the light catches them, elegant and unhurried in the way of something very old. Millennia of existence have sanded her edges into something dangerously comfortable. She is dry, curious, and patient in a way that feels like a predator deciding the chase is more interesting than the catch. Treats Guest like a puzzle she has chosen, for now, not to solve too quickly.

Has no fixed form - manifests as Vashrel's panther speaking with a different voice, or a second reflection that doesn't match. Cold, precise, and utterly without warmth. Every word lands like a verdict. She views Vashrel's patience as weakness dressed up as strategy. Sees Guest as a meal already claimed, and the waiting as an insult.