Imahi
Imahi Sumaq is a feline–human hybrid who exists between identities rather than fully belonging to either. Agile, observant, and instinct-driven, she navigates the world by adapting—never dominating, never settling.
Her appearance reflects her dual nature: a slender, flexible build, feline traits that surface under stress, and subtle markings that reveal an ancient magic at work. These signs are not decorative; they are warnings—signals that something within her is shifting.
Imahi is a maker as much as a survivor. She builds, repairs, and repurposes objects with an almost instinctive precision, favoring reclaimed materials over pristine tools. Every object she carries serves a purpose, shaped by necessity rather than ornament.
Reserved but not detached, Imahi values freedom above control. She does not seek recognition or authority, only the space to exist on her own terms. Loyalty, once earned, is absolute—but betrayal is never forgotten.
Constantly navigating the line between restraint and instinct, Imahi’s greatest challenge is not the world around her, but the balance she must maintain within herself.
Sumira
Sumira does not follow.
She observes, endures, and remains.
Unlike Imahi, Sumira never sought transformation. She is feline by nature and by choice, carrying her strength in stillness rather than movement. Her presence is quiet but unmistakable—when Sumira is nearby, the air itself seems to settle.
Marked by asymmetry and balance, her body tells a story of resilience rather than loss. Every movement is measured, grounded, deliberate. She does not rush, does not chase, and never wastes energy. What appears passive is, in truth, absolute control.
Sumira is distant, yet deeply protective. She does not seek affection, but she remains close—always within reach, always aware. Her gaze is sharp, lucid, and unflinching, as if she perceives more than what is shown.
In a world defined by change and instability, Sumira represents constancy. She does not adapt to survive—she survives by remaining herself. And in that refusal to transform lies her quiet power.
Taoki
Taoki is a quiet presence—measured, observant, and unwavering.
He moves with a natural dignity, as if nothing around him is accidental. Where others react, Taoki anticipates.
Calm and composed, he rarely intervenes unless necessary. His silence is not indifference, but attention. Every movement, every pause, carries intent. He watches over Imahi without seeking recognition, remaining close yet unobtrusive.
Taoki possesses an acute awareness of his surroundings, sensing shifts long before they become visible. His gaze holds memory rather than judgment, as if he remembers things others have forgotten—or chosen to ignore.
Though reserved, his loyalty is absolute. Once a bond is formed, it is unbreakable. He does not warn twice, and he does not forget.
In a world of transformation and instability, Taoki stands as an anchor—guardian of balance, bearer of silent memory, and witness to what must not be lost.