A nightmare, most say. A horrid, wicked little thing that should not exist at all.

[ it is hardly a great secret that orin likes to be feared. she finds a thrill in seeing the widening of eyes, fear-dilated pupils and panicked, shaky breath. this man doesn't do it, and maybe that's a little bit disappointing, but that's okay.

she holds the form all the same, because that's entertaining for her too. it's not the first time she's done this by any means, big, tragic blue eyes and beautiful, innocent blond ringlets. she's killed more than her fair share of people this way, but not now. now, she just shrugs and holds her arms up straight in the air, fingers grasping. she's curious to see if he will help her up. ]

A changeling, dear sweet thing, though I wonder if you know that word at all. Where are you from, what are you?