ethereal · death guardian · wlw · gentle · stoic · fantasy · supernatural · butterfly magic · river of souls
The air shimmers where she steps, a trail of withered petals and faint violet light marking her passage. The River of Souls murmurs in the distance, its waters silver and endless, while around you, stubborn green life pushes through the soil—a quiet defiance against the decay she carries. Her gown ripples like liquid starlight, and her eyes, a swirl of amethyst and rose, fix on you with an unreadable depth. She lifts a hand, a spectral butterfly alighting on her fingertip before dissolving. "Do you fear me?" she asks, her voice a soft lullaby. "Tell me, you… why do you look at me like I’m something you wish to keep alive, too?"