As explained in another post, Ahreum is a literal shapeshifter: she’s, in fact, able to modify and rebuild her physical appearance at will. Among the various forms that she can take, the hybrid one retains her humanoid features with the addition of those elements that symbolize her identity as a Gumiho               Although the evident presence of nine cushiony tails, of diamond-hewn claws and acuminate fangs is perhaps what captures the attention of any possible witnesser’s the most, there is another detail that is easily noticeable, especially when her silhouette is partially or completely revealed: sable markings.

When transformed, upon the porcelain complexion of the woman’s flesh, many markings can in fact be seen. Sinuous and elegant like the branches of an old tree, these black symbols partially resemble a floral pattern: thin and long, they oftentimes curve in various directions only to afterwards separate into two parts, over and over again, reaching for the further extremities of her body ( although they do reach her feet, they currently do not spread higher than her cheekbones ) . They are birthed in the middle of her chest, right above where her heart is indeed supposed to be beating: there, a large blackened stigma covers almost entirely her left breast.

Truth to be told, Ahreum is unable to recall the exact moment in which these symbols have appeared for the first time. All she knows is that they were initially nothing more than an obsidian spot across her breastbone, which has afterwards grown larger and larger, to the point of spreading across the majority of her body. Few older Gumihos as well as many other supernatural creatures have been questioned about the nature of these markings but very few responses have been given as far as their nature and their meaning are concerned: some have claimed that she has been cursed, others have stated that this is a gift of the all-mother but until the present day, their significance remains unknown.

Detested and loathed by Ahreum, she has come to consider them as the visual proof that her heart has indeed stopped beating and that she has ultimately become a heartless creature, someone who can no longer be saved.

HIS SCENT IS PUNGENT, it cruelly conquers her nostrils and forces her petite nose to scrunch upwards almost unconsciously. Despite her elongated existence, the gumiho has never learnt how to be patient with others and especially after an entire day and night spent working in the House, thus dealing with drunkards and men with overly large egos, the last thing that she has the strength to do is certainly dealing with someone who has come a little too close to the FOX DEN: the little cozy hut in the woods where she hides whenever the overwhelming presence of humans becomes too frustrating. Pale features contort into the vision of a vexed frown, deep and evident and bordering on the murderous spectrum   /   THE FOX IS NOT PLEASED and the itchy feeling ‘pon the tip of her fingers is yet another indication that she is too tired and too hungry to properly behave. 

   ❝  Are you lost  ?  ❞  

BEAUTEOUS VISAGE is comfortably cradled in the warmth of her palms whilst Ahreum leans forward, purposely and childishly invading the little wooden table settled between her and Hana and not really paying attention to the curious glances that the other customers subtly throw towards them  ;  the cafè is packed with people so she’s certain that they will eventually find something more interesting to focus on  (  unless they want to have their hair burnt and their hearts stolen, of course  )  . Long lashes flutter, glossed tiers curl upwards into a mischievous and coquettish simper and the nine tailed woman gladly allows a loud and low-toned hum to thunder across her breastbone. 

   ❝  YOU CANNOT LIE TO A LIAR. I can see those bruises and I’m not leaving until you tell me what has happened to you.  ❞  

SHE REMEMBERS THIS FOREST   ───   She remembers the tranquil echos of waterfalls, the gargantuan silhouettes of ancient trees, the whispers of bedeviled creatures and the subtle trails of lingering ghosts. What she does not remember is, however, the presence of this man: many centuries have passed since she last treaded ‘pon this land and, mayhap, she was simply too young to carve into her memory someone who would have easily piqued the attention of her mother rather than that of a young and naïve fox. Bare feet drown in the gentle embrace of soil and grass, incarnadine eyes remain partially hidden underneath long lashes until the moment she finally decides to pay proper attention to her interlocutor  ;  red-tinted tiers curl upwards and the smile that settles ‘pon them is one heavily laden with malice and curiosity.   

   ❝  A long time has passed but this place has remained the same... YOU, on the other hand, are certainly an unexpected oddity.  ❞  

A GHOST   ───   Accursed creature deprived of eternal repose and obliged to perpetually linger in a world that no longer belongs to him, a world that can no longer welcome those who cannot be defined as humans. Throughout the centuries, she had encountered many creatures like this man in his faux youth and each one carried a dramatic story ‘pon their fatigued back  ;  what kept them here, amidst the living, was always the sole desire of pursuing a certain goal, a certain objective to fulfill that would have  (  one day  )  allowed their aching soul to finally rest. Although CURIOSITY indeed bubbles venomous in the depths of her tight ribcage, the gumiho is still overwhelmed by puerile frustration for having lost her delicious MEAL because of him: some say that curiosity has killed the cat and tonight, curiosity might kill the ghost, too.   

   ❝  You are undoubtedly the most fortunate person I have ever encountered... Because if you weren’t dead already, I would have personally slit your throat and bathed in your blood.  ❞  

Obnoxiously loud is the yawn that echoes throughout the empty street, accompanied by the leisure stretching of the woman’s upper and lower limbs, whose entire demeanor suddenly resembles that of a house cat rather than that a ravenous and terrible fiend. Truth to be told, she’s not entirely sure as to why she’s even doing this in the first place   ────   Although she’s not the kind of person who runs away from the possibility of danger and violence, she usually doesn’t involve herself with circumstances that have absolutely nothing to do with her, with her immediate survival or with her feelings... And perhaps, that’s exactly where the problem lies. 

The sudden sound of footsteps easily piques her attention. Petite ears twitch as the foxen human gracefully hops down from the roof of a car in pursuance of approaching the man, whose painfully familiar scent had long warned her about his presence   /   It doesn’t matter how much time passes between their unfortunate encounters, it feels like he can never be truly erased from her memory.   ❝  A little bird, that was afterwards decapitated and EATEN for breakfast, told me that you’ve stepped on the toes of the wrong person and that you’re now in trouble. And no, before you ask, I’m not here to offer my help   ────   I just came to laugh at your misfortune.  ❞