Sera is a tall and beautiful woman of Egyptian descent, with curly dark hair, long legs and chestnut-colored skin.  Not much given to interacting with humanity, Sera travels the wilderness on her own, often by night.  Her garments reflect that, as she cloaks herself in dark, baggy clothing which conceals her attractive, feminine form as well as her wholly different skin tone from the eyes of those few she encounters.  She dons much-worn deerskin leggings, the leather dyed green.  Cloaking her torso in a white tunic, she shrouds herself in a billowy, dark gray cloak which conceals several knives strapped to her body.  Slung over her shoulders is a brown leather backpack, stuffed with all of her worldly possessions, though they are few.  Belted at her hip is a gladius, resting in a plain sheathe which belies the care with which the sword itself is handled.  Supporting herself with a gnarled and weather-beaten oaken staff, she keeps to the less-traveled paths because she fears no creature on God's Earth; they fear her.

What do the animals know about her?  They crinkle their noses and they breathe in the scent of her Rage.  Within Sera's breast boils an ephemeral monster, a specter of fury so potent that the animals around her can sense it from far away.  They can detect her Rage from a distance, smell it like hot blood streaming from a fresh kill.  They can smell inside of her the scaly coils of her true nature, which is far from woman.  No, they smell a primal, ancient predator.  They smell the sharp stench of gouting flame. They can practically hear her bellowing roar as she screams down from the sky with her talons extended for the kill.  They know, as surely as they recognize the wolf and the bear.

They know a dragon when they smell one.