Nothing was right about this place. While on the surface, it looked like any other of the Red Dragon's conquests--hopeless, abandoned, burnt to a crisp--the smells were all wrong. They assaulted Ariadne's brain, foreign and suffocating. Following the battle, Airy pulled back, making herself look small and insignificant, like she'd been trained to do. She needed to scout the area, she needed to gather her bearings and figure out where Valeria was. She needed to get home.

But something funny happened.

Airy looked down at her hands. It was no unusual act. Her left hand had been throbbing since she landed. She needed to access the damage. Splinters weren't all that uncommon for someone who liked to doze in trees. But for the first time, she noticed that her skin wasn't the cool, mint green that she was used to seeing. Her hands were a sort of pleasant pink. The fleshtone that some Humans and Elves sported back home. Her gray eyes traveled up the lines of her arms, turning to either shoulder. None of it was right. Her pheromones were meant to trick other people's eyes, not her own. But as far as she could tell, she looked completely...her fingertips grazed against the tips of her ears...Human.

"How...?" The word just barely escaped. And like her nickname, it was a soft, airy sound that traveled in no particular direction.

((OOC: Small permissions meme for people to fill out, just to be on the safe side with Ariadne's assumptions.))