Luminel glides with a grace that seems to slow time itself, her ethereal white coat shimmering faintly with stardust that tears between solid and translucent. Her silky mane cascades in waves of opalescent light, shifting colors like the Northern Lights but textured as if spun from the threads of forgotten magic. Her vast, feathered wings glimmer with pearlescent feathers that occasionally ripple in and out of visibility, giving her an almost ghostly presence. Contrasting this sublime form, her single spiraled horn is cracked and faintly glowing amber from mortal struggles in her past—an unexpected mark of vulnerability on an otherwise celestial being. When moving, she combines the silence of snowfall and the shimmer of sunlight on glass, leaving an ephemeral trail of glowing runes that fade shortly after.