Her eyes are bright like embers piercing through dense smoke, full of life and intelligence. A white blaze stands like a proud spire along the bridge of her nose, a stark contrast against the pewter hide of her lithe body with dark, charcoal stripes pleasantly adorning a majority of her body. Although her petite body is lacking in strength, whether it be from her mixed breeding or the unfortunate circumstances of her early life, Lieve’tel more than makes up for it in speed. An agile thing, she has the stamina to go for miles before tiring, which is sure to come in handy as many times as she’s bound to get up to no good. Her hooves are the color of moonstone, hard and often free of blemishes if she can keep them that way. Lieve’s silver hair falls in waves, thick and luscious, sometimes disheveled but always quick to be tamed.

In her youth, Lieve’tel was a spritely little thing, keen to run circles around her parents and pester them relentlessly until they would play with her, or until she grew too tired and made herself comfortable beneath her parents’ protective forms, napping for hours before repeating it all over again. When she wasn’t playing, Lieve would look on at the world through a curious and oddly critical eye given her young age. Though she always questioned the ways of others, she was never judgmental and accepted everyone she met with a dazzling smile, at least until her father ushered her away from the strangers she so brazenly approached.

Despite her unyielding love for both her mother and father, Lieve always had a tendency to wander whether they were paying attention to her or not. Easily distracted and even more easily bored, the filly always had a thirst for adventure and a way of throwing caution to the wind. Although she’d learned the hard way that not everything and everyone wanted to be her friend at a young age, nothing could quench her curiosity when it came to the unknown. As she acclimates to a second chance at life in a new world and grows older, it’s impossible to say how her personality may shift and mold into a different machine altogether.

For the most part, Lieve'tel lived a fairly normal life. Brought into the world by loving and nurturing parents, she thrived in her environment and adored those that loved her most - she knew them as 'mom' and 'daddy', but everyone else referred to them as Elisbet and Vikander, respectively.

Her most vivid memory is the day the Kingdom fell.

It had started out like any other, and then there was a loud crash followed immediately by screams. At the time it had happened she'd been with her mother, although it wasn't long before her father came bursting into the room with a frantic look in his eyes. He'd offered no explanation, only that they needed to get to the shipyard at once. Although frightened and not wanting to venture out of the place she had always considered safe, her home, Lieve had no reason not to trust her parents. So, wedged in between them and safe as she could possibly be, they fled the only home she had ever known, forcing their way through the panicked populace.

---

A month in, and Lieve woke one morning to find her mother too weak to even lift her head no matter how hard she urged her to get up. Her mother had never been the most physically strong individual, but this was unusual. Concerned, Lieve spent the next several weeks at her mother's side, consistently trying to coax her to rise and move around, but to no avail. Along with her father, she made sure to bring her food, water, and anything else she might need, and always slept at her side - but near the end of her mother's life, Lieve, too, developed the same cough Elisbet had started with.

---

By the time Elisbet succumbed to her illness, Lieve's own mind had grown hazy. She wailed when she was hit with the realization her mother was gone, but no amount of tears nor anguish could revive her.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Lieve's condition worsened, and like her mother before her, her strength was eventually taken from her. Her spritely nature was just as gone as her appetite, and the glowing embers that were her eyes lost their flame as they grew dull. She barely spoke, and was more content to lay against her father and listen to him than anything else.

Then, late one night, Lieve snuggled close to her father as he regaled her with a story. Leaned comfortably against him with the most tender of smiles, Lieve'tel drew her final breath just as the story drew to a close, before the sickness claimed her.

---

Three years have passed since then, and it seems Lieve's story may not be over as previously believed.