She could have sifted – it would have been easy. Plucking the strands of reality aside and stepping through to the desired place at the perfect time... but Killian enjoyed the run. A glamour lay upon her form, leaving her invisible and intangible to most eyes, though she could only affect the perception of other fey if she turned up the glamour tenfold. In her hellhound form every leap was a dozen or more yards, long legs stretching, claws tearing into the earth as she thrust forward. She kept to more abandoned roads or didn't bother with roads at all, crossing the country at a fairly leisurely pace and taking the time to relax in upscale hotels when she found them. Night was best for travel in such a form, as her sight and hearing were simply too keen to abide cities and midday with any pleasure. As she reached a forest, Killian sprang past its borders and quickly became a part of the dark, tangled depths. Animals that couldn't quite see her but were more immune to her spell knew enough to flee, silence and fear remaining in her wake.
The thrill of the run sent her blood rushing, head raised to catch the myriad of forest smells and the movement of creatures as they quickly sought safety. She'd been travelling now for a couple weeks, having taken the time to poke around and do some sight-seeing off the clearly designated tourist trails. Killian didn't do well with people, so classic tourism was out of the question. It had also become clear that the true attractions couldn't be seen fully or thorough appreciated from such limited points. She was of a race that had once compelled the seasons to change by their very moods – who were these silly mortals to tell her where she could or couldn't go? A snort of derision erupted from the hellhound as she began to slow her pace. Nose questioning the fresh breeze filtering through the thinning forest, she caught the varied scents of many people gathered nearby and unmistakable odor of civilization. A thin whine erupted from Killian's throat as the iron that permeated the air burned through her, coating her tongue and throat with a flavor that compelled her to shudder and retch.
Shadows gathered thicker around the hellhound as strange noises and alien movements began to take place, thrusting her form into foaming madness as she shifted into her Sidhe form – her human looking form. Lean and tall for a woman, Killian was dark of hair and eyes with skin a rich and dusky hue that hinted at darkening rapidly if touched by the sun. Long, thin hands lifted and made plucking motions, drawing from the air – and her demesne far off – clothing. It was rare for fey folk to truly create unless under heavy demand, thus the origins of their instantly appearing items were rather being taken from somewhere and somewhen. Rapidly dressing, Killian donned jeans, a turquoise t-shirt, and brown leather hiking boots. Leaning forward to thrust a an old and richly detailed sgian dubh into her boot , the woman's face was momentarily hidden by the thick downpour of black hair that, when straight rather than it's normal tousled, nearly touched her waist.
Feeling slightly prepared, Killian used a long-legged stride to devour the distance between the forest's edge and the group of milling people. Killian's face was devoid of expression, though her dark eyes moved restlessly as she surveyed those closest. Some stood out physically, while others were demonstrating gifts that drew her attention and perhaps touched upon hackles that were no longer visible. Though her senses were less keen now, Killian was still drawn to another vague figure she left behind in the forest. Her eyes narrowed briefly, trying to discern an outline, but too many other distractions quickly drew her attention.