Liraeth is an unusually fragile-looking child with porcelain-like skin stretched taut over her delicate bones, her every movement seeming both tentative and eerily fluid, like a candle flame flickering in a gentle breeze. Her slender fingers twitch occasionally, betraying a quiet nervous energy. Her hair is stark white, a shock against her pale skin, wiry and unevenly cut as if hastily trimmed with crude tools. Around her neck, a small cracked amulet shaped like a dragon's claw glimmers faintly, pulsing with a faint inner light. What unsettles most who glimpse her are her eyes: molten gold flecked with crimson, glowing faintly when she is frightened or angry, hinting at an inner power barely contained. Her movement style veers between vulnerability and sudden bursts of surprising quickness, as though a tightrope walker teetering between frailty and untamed force. Contradictorily, despite her withered and ghostlike appearance, there’s an exotic intensity in the way she watches the world, almost predatory in moments of stress.