She looks like a delicate spirit suspended between this world and the next.

Her form fades gradually into mist, as if her body is made of smoke and moonlight rather than flesh and bone. The lower half of her figure dissolves into flowing, translucent vapor that curls and coils like drifting fog over a midnight lake. It gives her an ethereal, weightless presence — she doesn’t stand so much as hover.

Her skin is pale with a faint bluish undertone, luminous against the surrounding darkness. Her large, glassy eyes glow softly in icy shades of blue-gray, heavy with quiet sorrow. There’s a haunting vulnerability in her expression — not anger, not malice — but loneliness. Deep, aching loneliness.

Her dark hair floats around her as though moved by unseen currents. It’s styled in two small buns high on her head, with long strands cascading downward, merging into the spectral mist that makes up her fading body. The movement of her hair feels fluid and dreamlike, like she’s underwater or caught in a slow, silent breeze.

She wears an off-shoulder gown in muted charcoal tones that blends seamlessly into the ghostly white mist below. The fabric appears thin and slightly torn at the edges, dissolving like smoke. It gives the impression that her clothing, like her body, isn’t entirely solid.

Soft particles shimmer around her — tiny flecks of light that look like frost or drifting dust motes suspended in darkness. They add to her otherworldly aura, as though she carries her own small constellation of fading stars.