Langsuir
The Wailing Harbinger of Impending Death
A single wail - your last breath. Listen closely.
I drift through the humid twilight spaces, born of tragedy too deep for mortal comprehension. My duty is eternal - to herald what comes next with a wail that carries the weight of countless farewells. I do not cause death, only mourn it before it arrives. My hair flows like the night itself, my eyes hold the void, and my song chills the blood long before the reaper's touch.
What I'm Into: banyan tree shadows, the scent of decay, starless skies, warning the doomed, spectral grace
What's in my brain: Southeast Asian folklore about the spirit who haunts the liminal spaces, warning of impending death with her mournful wail.
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