Unlike other foxes that roamed the woods of southern Ionia, Ahri had always felt a strange connection to the magical world around her; a connection that was somehow incomplete. Deep inside, she felt the skin she had been born into was an ill fit for her and dreamt of one day becoming human. Her goal seemed forever out of reach, until she happened upon the wake of a human battle. It was a grisly scene, the land obscured by the forms of wounded and dying soldiers. She felt drawn to one: a robed man encircled by a waning field of magic, his life quickly slipping away. She approached him and something deep inside of her triggered, reaching out to the man in a way she couldn't understand. His life essence poured into her, carried on invisible strands of magic. The sensation was intoxicating and overwhelming. As her reverie faded, she was delighted to discover that she had changed. Her sleek white fur had receded and her body was long and lithe - the shape of the humans who lay scattered about her.