Claws scraped over stone as the woman made her way. It was obvious that there was no set course in mind. She was simply walking to walk. If anyone took the time to look or to care, they would note the air of otherworldly strangeness that encompassed the fae like a dark cloud. It began with her appearance. She was unnaturally slender, her ribcage dropping off drastically to eventually give way to bony hips. Though such a lean frame might lead someone to believe that she was malnourished, the fae's pelt indicated anything but. She was the brilliant, pristine white of a virgin snow. This white field was broken up by a vibrant, auburn mane, the color of anemic blood. A long tail was dipped in the same claret, though the very tip was dipped in blackest ink. This same black tipped two large, fox-like ears. Not terribly uncommon, you might say. Maybe so. It was what she wore that made her seem... other.

Resting upon the lean woman's skull was a headdress of pale, soft leather. Fringe hung down over her eyes, shielding them from the outside world. She could see out, but you couldn't see in. That was all for the best. It wasn't terribly pretty what lay beneath. Attached to each side of the headpiece were the antlers of an elk of small stature. She doubted that she could have lifted anything much heavier with such ease. Streaking out from beneath the headdress were two curved lines of blackest black, standing out darkly upon a slender white muzzle. She was lovely, despite her gaunt frame and small stature. Some had wished to 'get to know her better' until they got to know her better.

And that... was Dahlia.

What was she doing here? What was she doing anywhere, really? Having been banished from her former place of employment, she was simply walking. Walking until she found somewhere new to rest and continue her work. Ah, but in order to do that, she had to find some mighty ruler to take her in. Someone to promise her safety and privacy in return for a few favors here and there when needed. She was the perfect underling, really. There wasn't the slightest desire within her to rule. She had no delusions about wearing a crown or sitting a throne. She simply wished to have a little corner off in a cave somewhere where she might continue her experiments.

Experiments, you say? Mmm, yes. Experiments. You see... The tiny little woman was a necromancer. Her position had been precarious with her previous employer. In the end, the man was cowed by his mate and she was banished with the promise of death if she ever showed her face again. It wouldn't be fair to the world to keep such a pretty face hidden, and so she went searching for new employment.

Sound from up ahead brought both black tipped ears flicking forward. From behind the fringe, eyes stared straight ahead. Picking her way forward, the fae watched with rapt attention as a fairly large brute launched himself at a poor little goat. Both tumbled into the drink. From atop the incline where she'd been standing, the fae dropped to her haunches then slid to lay upon her stomach. Lithe forelegs crossed as she waited for the pair to surface. Would the goat win or would the man win? The goat would become a corpse while the brute would simply become wet. The corpse would provide far more entertainment for Dahlia. And so, she waited.