BEAUTY IS TERROR a glittering iridescent veil made of stardust; she is the aurora night, the fallen cosmos, the sphinx of the north. when once beauty was perceived as soft and gentle, orithyia has now twisted it into a malevolence of the most wretched kind. amidst the shimmering colors and the blinking lights, she is ensnared in an avian's cloak. wings that bleed red along the edges, forming into a whip like shape of coagulated blood lashes within the air. her legs are long, ending with jagged talons and feet that are not quite right. she stalks, even when not chasing down prey, in a movement akin to a feline but with the deadly grace of a serpent. but fear not, for one may not see her upon the ground at all. orithyia is constantly soaring in the air, riding upon the currents. or she is laid out along her cliff-throne, watching the people below her kingdom with liquid amber gaze. when the night comes and the moon shines bright, the ivory horn upon her head glows underneath the light. the petals around her neck are reminiscent of lily flowers that bloom during the spring. like flowers, they fall when winter strikes, revealing a nape of oily black fur. though orithyia hardly notices, as they are barely noticeable enough for her to care.
Personality
she fears nothing and nobody and no one can lie to her, nor will she lie to anyone. her words are devastatingly honest and brutal; simple and short. the sphinx of the north is simply a watcher, one who reads faces first before casting her judgment upon them. she welcomes passerbys just to turn them away–and will to violence if she is forced to do so. though a peaceful and serene creature, orithyia yearns to see the chaos of the world. political intrigues attracts her to their games, though she has yet to find fascinating players...
History
orithyia is from the small cliff village known as arthasius. her full name was thus translated as orithyia of arthasius, though none would ever recognize it for the language she spoke has been dead for centuries. even orithyia herself knew little of it, and as such, spoke only the common tongue. still, she remembered what little memories of her youth spent in arthasius, that she sought out where her village should be and claimed the territory as her own.
for ages she watched as brutal warlords and escaped slaves came to her unknowingly. regardless of who she met, she turned them away, either with words or fangs. she knew not the reason except to protect her home as its sole resident.
