A carefully cultivated mixture of dawn and dusk, Runaveig is a beauty beyond words. As though plucked from the hands of the gods and crafted with elegance and magnificence in mind, her splendor is striking.

Her petite stature is regal in build, sharp and majestic with a profound undeniable femininity. Dainty limbs and slender curves formed of supple muscle and elegant flesh, the young entertainer’s body is a woven tapestry of sparkling ivory, dusky pink, and bottomless shades of purple. A varying canvas of coloration, her willowy body is marred by alabaster stripes across her breast and shoulders, and dark plum stripes across her hindquarters. Her mane is a long, cascading waterfall of perfect ivory falling below her breast, contradicted by the rich, deep purple of her flowing tail.

Runaveig’s head is dainty and lady-like in build and ivory in color, with gentle eyes of a rich, dusty gold. A golden circle rests is in the middle of her forehead at the base of an opaque, diamond-like horn, which protrudes upward with a slight rising curve. Her lips are a dusty sort of faint pink, which are often curled in a coy smile of genuine excitement, eagerness, or compassion. Moving downward upon rolling curves and gradually darkening colors, a crescent moon surrounded by four small stars emblazon Runaveig’s hind right leg, on the interior of her fetlock. It seems to perfectly mirror the golden sun upon her forehead; an eternal cycle, a continuous dance of night and day reborn. Hooves of varying colors, some are a pale pink and the other is a dark plum. The entertainer’s thin legs are adorned with various markings; socks and a coronet band.

Runaveig carries herself with a noble grace, a poised, collected sort of sashay that guides her confidently through the world.
"Speaking."

Loves deeply and passionately, charming and charismatic, an entertainer at heart, strives to tend to others and bring them joy, has maternal and protective tendencies, adores Umbra and finds a rekindled confidence in his presence, smitten with flowers and the flora of Novus

Moments of social anxiety or ineptitude, while charismatic she oftentimes struggles to properly convey her emotions, terrified of the concept of ‘death’, foolishly believes that everyone can be redeemed, inexperienced to the world

In this life, Runaveig has become an accumulation of every life she has ever lived. She moves through life with an otherworldly confidence, acting and appearing far older than the physical years she has spent walking the world of Novus. She is self-assured and pragmatic, charismatic and sociable, approaching every new challenge with a headstrong sort of determination. There is no task that Runaveig finds ‘too daunting’, for she throws herself into every task with a profound desire to learn, understand, and master.

She has been called ‘maternal’ throughout her life, caring deeply for the welfare of others and taking every encounter with others far too deeply. Sometimes the instances can cut her, taking every word and action to heart, for her heart is almost too big.

Despite her charming persona and remarkable sense of charismatic prowess when entertaining or storytelling, Runa occasionally has moments of social anxiety or ineptitude. While originally an introvert, hoarded away in the steppes of the Arma Mountains with her troupe, she is oftentimes at war with herself to overcome her social anxieties but does her best to douse those terrifying moments of, ’What if I’m not good enough? What if I mess up? What if they don’t like me?’ These questions, among many more, are the silent, torturous antagonists to her everyday life.

She is nothing if not determined, however, especially with Umbra at her side. With Umbra, Runa is confident that nothing will stop her. Together, both equine and dragon dance a dance of entertainment and mystery. Performing, acting, singing, or dancing brings Runaveig’s life to fruition; it is her greatest passion, her greatest work.

Runaveig sees no true evil in anyone. In her eyes, everyone can be redeemed, no matter their grievance. Despite thinking that everyone has the ability to change themselves, she also never hesitates to defend those that need defending.

Perhaps what is most surprising is Runaveig’s innate fear of ‘death’. Something about the notion terrifies her, almost uncontrollably so. While unable to place if it is ‘death’ itself, or perhaps the thought of ‘undead’, she cannot tell. Her inexperience with the world outside of the Arma Mountains might have an impact on this, but as she is now, it is hard to tell.

Oh, but the lives they had lived. Nobles, peasants, warriors, healers, it seemed that there was no limit to their eternal cycle. Death was never the end. Every death earned them another promise, another chance to live, to love, and to exist together once more. Sometimes they would not find one another. Sometimes, one would die too young, too early, leaving the other to search a lifetime and ultimately fail. The cycle would repeat, and the search would begin anew.

If one asked, Runaveig would not remember her very first life. Not in its entirety, of course. It was far too long ago. What she would remember would be Umbra, not but a hatchling, following her heels and slowly turning into the dearest friend she would ever know. Then, years later, a dark, handsome visage cloaked in glistening silver and a voice that regaled her as if she were the only thing of importance in the world. There would be tender touches, reverent whispers, and a heart so full of love, adoration, and fealty that her spirit would sing his name forevermore. There were other details, of course; a marble tower of sleek ivory, a garden of beautiful white blooms, and a wedding befitting royalty.

Since then, the dance began. It was only the most recent life that held merit, which thrust Runaveig into the current life she now lived inside Denocte.

Her life had begun a simple one, which had started on the continent of Nethilor. Born to a common man and common woman, Runaveig was the only daughter of the Lorelei family. They were a family that worshipped Naevys’lyrai, the beloved goddess of life, love, and fertility. When a curious black dragon was found cuddled up to their daughter’s side one fair morning, her parents thought nothing of it. A gift from Naevys’lyrai, perhaps? Runaveig lived a carefree and innocent childhood, growing up studying the family trade; medicine. She aspired to be a healer like her parents before her, but that was not the path she would be given.

Chosen on her second birthday, Runaveig became the Champion of the goddess Naevys’lyrai. It was not unheard of for the pantheon of Nethilor to designate champions among the mortals during their time of need, but it was known to be rare. From there her true journey began. Runaveig trained tirelessly to be worthy of the title, training both body and mind for whatever task her patron goddess would bestow upon her.

Shortly after her third year, Runaveig met Kratos, a handsome stallion dark as the night who traveled with Pryna, his own white pygmy dragon. Kratos was the Champion of Felum, the god of death, honor, and war. It was fate that thrust them together, but all it took was one look, one glance, and they remembered. This was not their first meeting, nor would it be their last.

Lifetimes flashed before her eyes in seconds. She remembered, oh did she remember. Kratos, with his devotion and fealty, with his strength and cunning, her precious, perfect love. They spent months together, reconfiguring this life and growing close as the lovers they once were. Things were good, and they were happy, until their patrons called them to battle.

A malicious necromancer had risen an army of the dead that were to march and enslave Nethilor, casting a mighty, necrotic magic that enshrouded all of the land in eternal darkness. Felum and Naevys’lyrai, disgusted with desecration of the dead, summoned their champions to lead a battalion against the damned army. Together, Runaveig and Kratos lead the charge. The battle that followed would last four days, and many lives would be lost. It would be a fatally wounded Kratos who would deal the final blow to the necromancer, ending the war. The Champion of Felum succumbed to his injuries during the eternal night, but not without his beloved at his side. Runaveig, straining with her own grievous injuries, lasted until the eternal darkness had broken, and breathed her final breath during the oncoming dawn.

Peace was had within Nethilor, but not without an insurmountable loss. The cycle, however, would only repeat itself.

Novus:

Born in Denocte, Runaveig spent most of her childhood and youth living in the Arma Mountains with her parents and the gypsy troupe they roamed with. At three days old, Runaveig gained a curious companion; a black, opalescent Pygmy dragon named Umbra. From that day on, the two were inseparable, and Umbra seemed to adore and cherish the young, kindhearted filly just as much as her parents did.

Through her youth, she learned the art of entertainment; singing, storytelling, performing, and painting. Those, however, were not her only passions. Runaveig also had a desire to be involved in the medical field, hoping to learn enough to tend to the injuries of others, minor or major. Growing older she quickly realized that there was no task she found uninteresting, and that anything had a certain appeal. Arts, performing, healing, fighting, studying, all of it was intriguing, and perhaps that was why she left her troupe in the mountains to seek out the far more civilized part of Denocte; the Night Court proper.

For just as long as Runaveig has lived, Umbra has lived with her. The opalescent black pygmy dragon has been her most steadfast companion throughout all of her lives, serving as a dear friend, a loyal ally, and someone to offer council whenever the need arose. Upon every death Runaveig received, Umbra would wander, searching the world for his companion reborn.

Appearance:
Roughly thirty-six inches long and eighteen inches tall, Umbra is slightly larger than most typical house-cats. His lithe, nimble body is covered in a thick layer of black scales, but instead of rough or raspy in texture, each scale is smooth, covered with a rainbow- like opalescent sheen. He stands on four legs, with a long, curling tail. Two wings sprout from his shoulders, the appendages covered in both scales and a thin, black membrane used for flying. Umbra’s eyes are a cat-like green with slit pupils, altering from shades of green to yellow.

Personality:
Umbra is fiercely loyal to Runa, and only Runa. While he accepts the company of others and still grows fond of them, his first priority will always be his equine companion. Despite his small stature, he can be surprisingly fierce, always ready to jump to Runaveig’s defense should the need ever arise no matter the size of the perceived threat. Even though his companion will always be the first in his heart, she would be followed closely by Pryna, Kratos’ white pygmy dragon.
As their equine counterparts are, Umbra and Pryna are deeply in love. They find joy in being with one another, but understand that their duties are to their companions, first and foremost.

Abilities:
Like a majority of dragons, Umbra has a elemental ability to breathe cold, freezing air. The ability isn’t near as strong as his larger cousins, however.