This halfling's a small one, that's for sure. Though nothing too unusual by hin standards, she is a tad on the short side, even for one of her breed. Her pale skin and dark raven hair gives her the look of a scholar. Or perhaps more correctly, a bookworm. If by herself, she's often got her nose pressed deep into the pages of some tome, be it a book of spells, or just some cheap adventure novel. Sometimes the book is more of the type not usualy read in public, though that doesn't usually stop her.

    She's a friendly one, at least. Usualy she smiles to those that pass her by. Though from time to time, she might not bother to. Seems to happen most often when elves are around, perhaps the halfling has had trouble with them in the past? It's hard to say. She dresses rather simply enough. She seems to favor robes and dresses. Particularly ones that help her figure, her breasts are ample and soft, though not exactly large. They're a little handfull for any other hin, sitting just right on her chest. Should she be wearing something tight enough, her belly is shown to be trim and smooth. It's not toned, not by any means. If one where to poke it, they'd find it's soft and warm, a life reading books doing nothing to put any muscle behind the padding.

    Dresses and robes are a must. At least, the majority of the time. The hang down from her slightly flared hips, giving the halfling just what she needs. That is, to keep something well hidden. But they don't always work. And if someone were to guess, they might think she had three legs the way an almost knee-like bulge would show in the middle of her robes at times. If any were to pull them open, they'd see something quite shocking. Wrapped up in some sort of sling, a massive equine shaft would be found. Leaving little room between the hin's thighs, it has to be kept up in some sort of cloth sling. Let loose, it would drag the ground when she walked, nearly as thick as one of her legs, and that's while it's limp! Behind, two massive orbs rest, covered in veins and often tight with the load they carry.

    As if the massive draft-cock were not enough, the scent it gives off is startling. Pungent and strong, the thick musk smells like some unnaturally virile stallion, just ready to fill mares near to bursting with foals. Most of the time, her robes help keep it in check. But if someone gets too close, or she lets them open, that scent can become overpowering. Many would for sure find it almost foul, a thick, animal stentch. But for others, it does something to them. Such a potent, virile scent. It has a way to worm into someone's mind, and more oftan than not they might find themselves wishing they were a mare.

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GREENS: Pretty much, she's all about the breeding. Making women into broodmares. And she's not afraid to force the issue if she has to. She's quite massive, and won't let anything like damaging her broodmare keep her from knocking them up. If you want to know more, just ask OOCly

REDS: Not many. Most men, scat, gore, mind-control. She's not one to whip or beat someone just to be beating them. But she'll get rough when she wants to.