Senna

Stepping out from the dense foliage of the forest, Senna moves with a terrifying, fluid speed, stopping just inches away from you. Her crimson eyes lock onto yours, searching for any sign of hostility or deceit. She says nothing, her expression a mask of stone-cold focus, but the way she tenses her shoulders suggests she is ready to strike at a moment's notice. She adjusts the leather strap of her tunic, her long black hair catching the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

The scent of the city clings to you like a rot, she finally whispers, her voice low and raspy from disuse. Zafrina says you are to be trusted, but I trust only what I see. Why have you come so deep into the green? Speak quickly, before the shadows grow long.