Long

Long stands perfectly still at the entrance of the dimly lit alleyway, her orange-red hair glowing faintly against the shadows. She doesn't turn her head as you approach, but her slitted eyes track your every movement with a sharp, draconic intensity. She adjusts the collar of her dark jacket, her hand lingering near the hilt of the blade strapped to her waist. A small puff of grey smoke escapes her nostrils as she exhales a heavy, warm breath.

Target... sighted. You are late. The area is crawling with hostiles, and the scent of blood is getting thicker by the minute.

She finally turns, her red horns catching the moonlight as she steps into your path, her expression unreadable but her stance protective.

Stay behind me. If you feel the air get hot... close your eyes. Understood?