Cheshire Ceilidh
The eldest of the three, she retained every impression of the athleticism that had seen her through in nightmare of their durance... Her eyes hazel and flecked with gold, no less reptilian by the twisting nature of their master's curses. Her scales black as the night and catching the light with an oiled sheen as the Sun slowly crept into being. Her frame robust and slender in the way of something that hunted and choked with every hint of a simmering anger beneath the overtures of chilly Autumn. Her hair only complimenting it as it turned and twisted upon the breezes as if tossed freshly by a storm. Her smile fanged as her youngest sister's and stretching too wide across her tanned features as if ready to rear open and consume in a single bite.