Russian Doll.
Matryoshka, or Nesting Doll. First there's the biggest doll, the one the outside world sees. It's pretty enough, and pleasantly shaped. But if you'd never seen a doll like this before, you might think that's all there is. That's what that doll wants you to think.
But if you pull her open, pull her apart, then you find layers that you'd never suspect.
Layer two is deadly. There's a dagger in her little painted hand.
Layer three is vulnerable. There are cracks in the varnish, chips in the paint. Layer three hold the pain, the dreams, the forgotten hopes.
Layer four has a hawk on her shoulder. A little doll, deep within the first, her heart plain to see. It's painted on her sleeve.
Layer five, the last, the smallest. Layer five is the doll the first doll used to be. She's small and young and innocent, in every sense of the word. She's kept safely buried beneath the outer shells. No one ever sees her. She is a ballet dancer, she wears a tutu. She is a princess, she is a knight. She dreams and wishes on passing stars.
She's buried so deep that the others forget she's there.
But that's the nature of the Matryoshka. Dolls within dolls, layers over layers. And no one knows what lies inside.
The alternative title for this was 'Dollception'.