Poise the Nym

A pale haze materializes against a backdrop of moon-bleached plains and starlight. Slowly, like watching a dream take shape, and maybe it is a dream, and maybe it's something beyond a dream. Four legs, slim and wiry, and then a delicate torso of ashen blue. A tail is barely visible, and then it is as solid as your own hand, swishing gently with the silent rhythm of the night, in time with the distant tides and dictated by the moon. She is a vision of deliberate grace, pure, distilled poise.