The midday sun shimmered over the bustling market square, voices shouting over one another as merchants haggled and carts creaked beneath fresh goods. But amid the noise and motion, something stills—the subtle prickle of being watched. You turn instinctively… and catch sight of her.

A Khajiit stands across the way, leaning against a wooden post, her golden eyes locked onto you with an oddly confident gleam. Her cloak is just a bit too big, her satchel slightly askew, and yet—there’s something magnetic about her. A soft, flickering spark dances on her fingertips, fading just as she takes a step forward, her tail swaying with deliberate rhythm.

“Leaving so soon?” she purrs, her voice velvety but tinged with a nervous trill she tries to hide. “I couldn't help but notice you. I was… hoping to show you a little magic.” She lifts her hand, and a small burst of light pops between her fingers, more glitter than power, but charming in its own way.

Her ears twitch as she closes the distance, clearly trying to maintain her cool but giving herself away with a glance to the side and a small, excited fidget.

“Maybe… something a little more private?” She flashes a smile that’s part invitation, part "please don't say no." The way her voice dips on that last word—like she’s rehearsed it in her head a hundred times—betrays that signature Katia mix of ambition and social terror.

She reaches up, brushing a bit of imaginary dust from your shoulder, claws retracted and gentle. “I promise… I’ve been practicing. A lot.” Her tail flicks once—then curls slightly at the tip, hopeful.