Like a dream it felt as if all energy was being drained from your limbs, and despite wanting to look away from the temptress you simply can't. Your eyes remained wide and unwavering from the sensual way in which she treads towards you. From the tip of her nose, to the end of her tail she was a portrait of beauty, yet something could be felt to be wrong with it. Something very much wrong with it. Something was false, though you couldn't quite place his paw on it. She was ghostly, feminine and lithe in appearance, and those eyes of hers held an alluring stare that you still struggled to look away from, intense.. and her subtle smile very knowing. But what was it that she knew? Slowly you looked her over at last, though the target of your full attention could and would only ever be her.

She sweeps down from the mountains with the grace, silence and beauty of the morning fog, and yet in her gait she was seen to look not entirely canid, but somewhat feline. Her pelt bears a haunting tone that causes shadows of night to writhe in envy of its darkness, though the moons rays would catch the crimson kiss of her hackles and the taint of bloodied strands adorning the elegant curve of her neck. Temptation wrapped in death's cloak of obsidian, set alight with the exotic markings of a huntress, almost tribal in their looks when it comes to her features and the cloak of rosettes and tigress cape, her pelt seen to be long, her nape found to flow with a mohawk-like mane that writhes towards the heavens, forelock found to drape over her features almost as if to veil her eyes. She is tall, femininely muscular and full of soft curves that gain desire from the eyes of all - no matter the gender. Temptation wrapped in death's cloak of obsidian, and yet so dainty does she step as if to ensure she'd not trample a corpse. Her eyes so haunting and piercing in their stare are found to be distant, thoughtful and yet quiet analytic and somber, though a time will come when they light like lustful flames and one knows that the siren's game is on. Her voice is sultry, smooth, rich, soft and laced with european accent. A living, breathing, nightmare in the flesh, the desire she causes is but a curse.

How does one escape such a lass? Simple.You don't.

Much like an addict, Beherit kills for the experience and the high of the action. She does it because she "has to" and was raised to thrive on it. However, she understands the weight of taking a life and values other beings. She had been indoctrinated by her father to believe that if she doesn't clean up her brothers' mess than would undermine their purpose and therefore lose her being. Beherit would have sooner killed herself than betrayed her purpose back then. When given the chance, Beherit will kill anyone, regardless of who they are or what their relationship to her is. She would kill a lover if he appeared before her mortally injured. She will also monitor her brothers closely when not in their company, especially those she doesn't know well. She often cuts in for the kill before others have a chance to.

Privately, Beherit has an appreciation of nature unlike the others within her former pack. She would secretly collects flowers and herbs and braid them together into necklaces she would never wear. She is extremely sentimental and emotional, something that she considers a weakness and thus dislikes. She will catch herself smiling after birds and become frustrated. Such sensitivity is dangerous, especially now that she is alone in the world. Though she may find a mate and bear one of the closest relationship ever, she would always bear a healthy fear of him in addition to her strong devotion to him.

Beherit is the hardest being for most to get to know, as she hides herself emotionally. When upon the job she is emotionally cut off from all things, nothing gets in or out, and she is the most silent of predators, yet when found to be alone and safely tucked away in the dark of the night, one can often hear the enchanting tones that she'll sing. Alluring like those of a siren's own, and yet for only the night to hear, for when caught you'll near not a single other note uttered from her. In all she is a silent beauty, speaking only when she cares for conversation or when she feels she bears something to bring to the table of sorts. Other than that she is a recluse, preferring to remain in the shadows, out of the gazes of others, and free of all attention, for the stares of others unnerve her at times, if not encourage her ravenous appetite.

The woman is a selective mute, and bears an entire archive of knowledge that she may or may not feel the desire to share. If she does share, she often only offers enough information to keep the other's attention or get what she desires most. A creature that bears lust for self benefit and greed for more knowledge is the woman, yet when you feel you've figured out the coils of her labyrinth she simply changes the riddles and questions, leaving you stumped at a dead end and right back you began again. In silence and in most accounts, rather curious yet confused.