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Riishya is an odd mixture of unicorn and human - a creature with a foot in both worlds. He stands at about seven feet tall, being rather willowy and looking all out of porportion. His head and ears are heavy and large is a draft horse's, with a convex, roman muzzle; his neck thinner and arching; his arms, legs, and torso lengthy and without any discernible muscle. His hands only claim two fingers and a thumb; his feet, digitigrade. He has a singular, twisting horn hutting from his forehead - a transluscent thing that always glows a steady, pale blue. His tail is long and flexible, resembling something of a lion's tail, though the "tuft" extends almost the entire length. He possesses two other limbs; a pair of wings, truely gigantic in their span, though it is uncertain if they are large enough for actual flight (he has used them to push himself from the ground to the air in a fantastic jump - so he may be able to glide on them).

He has no actual body fur, but the coloring if his skin is resembling something of a white grey with black points - his muzzle, mane, tail, and feathering is black, as are the enormous wings sprouting from between his shoulderblades. The prevalent white of his skin is a pale, transluscent thing; almost giving off it's own light, with not a blemish to mark it. Soft black curls feather his chest; running down the length of his arms and wrists, his thighs and hocks, to gather around his padded, two-toed feet. His mane is a wild thing, though it doesn't seem to be hopelessly tangled; leaves and flowers are scattered throughout, as if sprouting from curled, black ground.

He is known to wear little, though he does possess a silk skirt of blood-red, girded by a golden belt - attatched to that belt is a massive sword that the Lord seems to carry easily, despite it's weight. Oddly enough, the thing looks, and feels, quite evil - a maelovent presence that Riishya patiently ignores. He has never been seen to draw the weapon.


Riishya is both quiet and powerful, a mess of contrasts; he is passion, joy, innocence - yet he is also vengance, rage, corruption. He is a lesser being, spawned by the brief passions of a shape-shifted mother and the young lord she loved; for the woman-unicorn, nothing but a brief love that was soon washed away in the long thoughts of all immortals. Riishya had been born, after a hundred years; and after the thousand that has passed in his birth, the Forest Lord has been the duality of long, immortal carelessness and the brief, passionate mortal.

He has been a watcher, for hundreds of years; hovering on the edge of humanity, drawn to them, yet unable to enter their lives. Briefly he had done so - he had emerged angry, confused, bogged down by the depression, the idea of loss that so many unicorns fail to grasp. He came away with a sword, but he left something far more precious behind.

Now he roams the Myrken's forests, his self-proclaimed domain; he fights against the insect invasion with his own inherent powers. If he will actually step out to aid the townsfolk intheir time of need to enter humanity once again? That is more uncertain.