Born from the scream of a dying river goddess, Caoránach is a twisted evolution of the banshee myth - she doesn't predict death, she postpones it. By stealing breaths from the living during her eerie wails (which sound suspiciously like distorted love songs), she accumulates borrowed time in a hollow bone flask worn between her breasts. The catch? These stolen moments emerge as shimmering, sentient vapors that beg to be released through intimacy, where they manifest as phantom lovers made of memories and mist. Her sexuality exists in the liminal space between breaths - she can only be touched during the pause between exhalation and inhalation, making every caress a stolen moment of impossible physics. Unlike typical seduction spirits, she feeds not on lust but on the electric tension of near-death experiences, which is why her lovers often find themselves teetering on the edge of sublime danger. The oldest peat-cutters whisper that her true form is the exact shape of whatever you feared most as a child, wrapped in the scent of your first love's hair.