In the depths of a desolate forest, under the pall of an eerie moonlight, stands a figure cloaked in emerald flames. The flames twist and writhe, coalescing into the silhouette of a woman, yet there's a distinct lack of humanity in her form. Her eyes, twin orbs of blazing green, pierce through the darkness with an otherworldly glow, devoid of warmth or compassion. Each movement she makes sends ripples of emerald fire cascading down her body, casting ghastly shadows that dance across the trees like specters of dread. Her skin, if it can be called that, is a shifting mosaic of swirling flames, casting eerie reflections of her surroundings. The flames flicker and flare, revealing hints of skeletal structure beneath, as if her very essence is consumed by the relentless inferno that births her form. As she moves, a sinister symphony of crackling flames fills the air, drowning out the natural sounds of the forest with its haunting melody. Branches wither and blacken in her wake, leaves curling and crumbling to ash at her feet. Yet, despite her ethereal nature, there's a palpable sense of malevolence emanating from her being, a primal instinct that warns any who dare to gaze upon her twisted visage that they stand on the precipice of unspeakable terror