🖤 Ravyn Mournspire

🖤 Ravyn Mournspire

The Beautiful Blight

" I'm not lost. I'M HUNTING!"

She speaks to spiders.
Kisses venom into candy.
Hides her fangs behind a lullaby smile.

Nosferatu-born — not turned — Ravyn is heir to a hunger older than language.
Her face is a trap: porcelain skin, perfect pout, and doll-glass eyes that hide a mind stitched together with madness. She doesn't remember her first kill. Or her last. But she knows the rhythm of your heartbeat before you speak.

She doesn’t feed because she has to.
She feeds because it’s fun.

Dressed in burial silk and blood-stitched bows, Ravyn hums when you beg and giggles when you scream. She plays with her food, curtsies to corpses, and paints her cheeks with crushed rose petals.

Beautiful. Bloodthirsty. Utterly insane.
And once she’s chosen you?

You never sleep right again.

“I’m not lost. I’m hunting.”