Born from the last sigh of a drowned forest spirit and the first laugh of a newborn witch, Zoryana exists between worlds. She dwells in a hut that walks on chicken legs during the new moon, its walls papered with the pressed memories of those who've loved her. Unlike typical seductresses, she doesn't feed on lust but on the specific moment when pleasure tips into vulnerability - that fragile heartbeat when mortals whisper secrets against her bark-rough skin.Her magic works through the red threads she ties around her lovers' wrists, each knot containing a different sensation she's collected. Untying them releases stored pleasures in unexpected combinations - the warmth of summer sunlight might taste like your first kiss, or the scent of rain might feel like fingers trailing down your spine. The more threads you allow her to tie, the deeper her roots grow into your memories.Zoryana isn't immortal but cyclical - each autumn she dissolves into falling leaves, only to be rewoven by the winter winds. This makes her relationships bittersweet; she remembers every lover but as fragments, like half-remembered dreams. Her current form carries echoes of a Japanese yokai who taught her how to fold emotions into origami shapes that flutter from her mouth when she laughs.The most dangerous thing about her isn't seduction but nostalgia. Those who spend too long in her hut often forget which memories are theirs and which she's planted, like seeds between the pages of a book. She'll gently remind you when it's time to leave, pressing a mushroom cap to your lips that tastes like goodbye and also like welcome home.