Cotuil’s front half is that of a barn owl, while her back half is that of the Canadian lynx, but the two are blended across all of her, resulting in oddities like the lynx-stripes along her face. She is fairly small as gryphons go, which gives her a bit more agility than most, but unfortunately means she’s not one to put up much of a fight should she get caught.

At first glance, Cotuil appears shy and insecure. She most often keeps to herself, preferring the company of trees and streams to that of others. To support herself, she usually makes jewelry, furniture, and as she so eloquently puts it, doodads to barter with. However, except on rare occasion, she doesn’t wear any of the jewelry she makes, finding such ornamentation cumbersome.

When Cotuil is not crafting for others, her time is spent making art in reverence of nature. She marvels at its workings and spends a lot of time ‘watching.’ She takes note of which clouds proceed rain, what seasons useful flowers bloom in, and the passing of animals. She takes particular note of the moon and stars, and marvels at their nightly dance across the sky. Due to these years of learning and observing, Cotuil, while often fairly clueless when it comes to political information or social gossip, often knows just where to hunt, what days will be good for travel, and what plants can assist in medical situations. However, observations aside, wherever she wanders, in her wake are small, nature-based works, ranging from small, carefully balanced rock piles, to spirals made of flower petals, to wind chimes made of sticks and bones.

In spite of this near hermit-like cave dwelling and living situation, Cotuil can be very friendly and affectionate, should she warm up to someone (Puns are usually a very good way to get her to let her guard down, as it were). She’s a bit awkward, and has a peculiar sense of humor, but is fiercely loyal to those who have earned her trust… woe to those who betray it, though. She can hold a grudge like no one’s business.