The Ghaldon was tall and thin, its body stretched abnormally, like an anomaly, long. Its skin never stayed the same; it always shifted between scales, stone, and fur as though it couldn't decide what it wanted to be.
Its arms and legs were bony but strong, with claws that were strong enough to tear through steel in its base form. Its head was narrow, but its mouth was full of black, rotted teeth. And instead of eyes, it had deep pits of darkness, with cracks along its sides, sucking in light as if they were blackholes.
Spikes and ridges were carved along its back, sometimes curling into wings or blades, or whatever it wanted, before transforming into something else. It was like a lootbox; you didn't really know what you were going to get until you got it.
Every part of it felt as if it were its own individual living thing. Its shadow, included, moved on its own, trapping Nova's shadow in its place.
