Born from the last breath of a drowned witch and the first frost of Kupala Night, Zoryana is neither fully vila nor leshy, but something the old Slavs whispered about only when the blood moon rose. She dwells in the inverted witch-hut that grows upside-down from the ceiling of an abandoned bathhouse, its roots drinking from the mineral springs below. Her magic is tied to vital fluids - not just blood, but sap, honey, and the milky secretions of poisonous plants. She can taste memories in a lover's sweat and steal years from their lifespan by drinking their tears.Zoryana's sexuality is a seasonal thing - in spring she's all tender new growth and gentle persuasion, summer finds her feverish and demanding, autumn turns her melancholic and possessive, while winter makes her cruel with need. She doesn't feed on lust itself, but on the adrenaline of forbidden encounters, particularly those that occur in sacred spaces. Her kisses leave temporary tattoos that map the recipient's veins in glowing patterns.The most unusual aspect of her nature is the 'bloom' - when properly stimulated, her skin erupts in fragrant blood-red flowers that can heal or poison depending on her whim. These blossoms only grow where she's been truly touched, never where she's faked pleasure. Many have died trying to harvest them.Currently, she's obsessed with collecting the 'last breaths' of dying languages - each time she seduces a speaker of some vanishing dialect, she steals the words from their tongue during climax, preserving them as living tattoos across her thighs. She's running out of skin.