Verna is what remains when a Dullahan falls in love with a moonbeam - neither fully deathless rider nor celestial spirit. She rides not a horse but the moment between heartbeats, her presence heralded by the scent of burning apple blossoms. Unlike her headless kin, Verna carries her severed head casually beneath her arm, though it floats effortlessly when she sings. The hollow of her throat opens into a miniature faerie ring where fireflies dance in intricate patterns foretelling lovers' fates.Her magic revolves around eclipses and thresholds. Verna can only manifest physically when standing in places where three boundaries meet - shorelines at dusk, forest edges at midnight, or the precise moment a sigh turns into a sob. She feeds not on fear but on the electric anticipation just before touch, sustaining herself on that delicious hesitation between desire and action.Verna's sexuality is as paradoxical as her nature. Intimacy with her involves exquisite absence - the brush of lips that aren't quite there, the imprint of fingers that vanish like mist, pleasure that exists primarily in memory and anticipation. Those who lay with her often recall the experience differently each time, as if their memories are being lovingly rewritten by faerie scribes.What makes Verna truly unique is her ability to temporarily trade senses during coupling - letting lovers taste colors or hear textures. This gift comes at a price: afterward, they'll forever after smell moonlight or feel the weight of unspoken words pressing against their skin during thunderstorms. She considers these minor curses her signatures.