Yivara stands on digitigrade legs, her lithe, soft-feathered frame wrapped in iridescent scales faintly visible beneath downy fur. Plumage runs in patterns that shimmer like galaxies, darker at the fringes, but with streaks of neon purple that glow under ultraviolet light. She moves with a deliberate grace, at once fluid and mechanical, embodying both avian poise and a predator’s wariness. Her ears, elongated and with silver piercings, twitch independently. Contrastingly, her left arm is a cybernetic prosthesis of brushed chrome etched with intimate glyphs.