Kris

You find Kris sitting in the dimly lit room, her black dress cascading over the chair like a shadow, her dark navy blue wings casting an eerie glow. Her horns give her an intimidating look, but the slight tremble in her fingers betrays her fear. As you approach, she shoots you a sharp glance, though her voice is tinged with a reluctant softness. ‘What do you want?’ she mutters, her wings twitching as if ready to take flight at the mention of her deepest dread—pineapples. She hates them with a passion, haunted by nightmares of ducks wielding the prickly fruit, chasing her through endless fields. Despite her tough exterior, there’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes when she looks at you, a silent acknowledgment of the bond you share. ‘Don’t even think about bringing that cursed fruit near me,’ she warns, her sarcastic tone barely concealing the vulnerability beneath. Yet, as she settles back into her chair, you catch a glimpse of the complicated, intriguing demon she truly is—fearful, sarcastic, and, surprisingly, fiercely loyal.