The sudden voice behind her caused Damayanti to start. She shimmied out of the hole, blinking at the change in light from the darkened hole.
The girl was small and petite and quite pretty, almost angelically so. Though there was something a bit odd to her looks. She glanced up at Thanatos, tilting her head, "Of course I'm human." Then she frowned, thinking a moment, "Well, I think I'm mostly human. Though, now hat I think on it, I don't think I am all human."
She stood up then, brushing her skirt off. Her clothes were rather strange and ill fitting. And they were a mass of random patchwork and repairs.
The girls aura was so very strange. She was not a zombie or a vampire or any other type of undead. There was Life in her. She lived. Her heartbeat, her lungs took in air. But Death still clung to her. She was not fully alive. That much was very clear. Necromantic magic, though a perverted form of it, hung around her.
She suddenly thrust her hand out, "Hello. I am Damayanti." The long sleeve of her shirt covered most of the hand, just the fingers stuck out.