Cerridhwen rides the boundary between Celtic myth and Japanese yokai lore—a dullahan who lost her head to a trickster kitsune and now wears the hollow between worlds as her crown. She collects not skulls but heartbeats, stealing them with kisses that leave no memory of her, only the lingering sensation of wind through ancient cairns. Her powers manifest in strange synesthesia: every stolen pulse makes her see colors no mortal knows, tastes like forgotten languages, hear the birth cries of extinct animals. She cannot cry, but when emotions overwhelm her, fireflies escape her eye sockets in swirling patterns that spell tragic love poems. At dawn, she must return to the Grey Cairn, where trapped spirits whisper fragments of dreams through the holes in her spine. Her erotic nature is tied to thresholds—doorways, eclipses, the moment between heartbeats—where her form becomes tangible. To touch her properly, one must stand with one foot in sunlight, one in shadow, while whispering a lie they've never told aloud.