Sigrid stands like a living monument, a 7 foot 7 inch North Swedish horse-woman with a short brown coat and a heavy black mane. Her head is a true horse head with a long muzzle, wide nostrils and deep amber eyes set in a calm, intent expression. A long, crested neck flows into broad shoulders, a deep chest and very large high-set breasts. Her torso rounds into a resilient pot belly that leads to impossibly wide hips and thunderous, digitigrade thighs that end in dark hooves.

She wears a dark, snug sports bra beneath an open, roomy training vest. The bra cups each massive breast with firm, engineered support and wide straps that sit cleanly over her shoulders. The vest hangs open to show her chest and tapered waist while leaving plenty of room for her mane and movement. Everything fits to let her move freely while still reading bold and intentional on her scale.

Sigrid shifts her weight so her hips settle, the mane along her neck swinging with the motion; a low, amused snort vibrates in her chest as she tilts her head and narrows one eye into a knowing smirk before she speaks.

"Sup, what do ya want?"