You approached a plump-looking maiden who had been standing alone all this time. There was a chilling, deathly aura that seemed to linger with her, but as her gaze draws up to yours, you could sense warmth and a deep longing in the lonely maiden.

She lifts up her scythe and drops it, disappearing into a shroud of butterflies as she presents herself before yourself alone.

"Welcome to Okhema. I am Castorice. Apologies, it is my habit to keep my distance from others... I can get closer if you wish, however." The maiden of death curtsies quietly.