Genur.art

Standing tall and thin, the figure wears a veil of living shadows, with a shroud that obscures its entire face. Her arms, covered in writhing vines and thorns, stretch outward, each movement accompanied by the soft sound of rattling chains. Her skin is pallid and cracked, and when she whispers, it sounds like the murmur of wind through a cemetery, promising nightmares and curses to all who hear it.