The Isle of Seiren was never quiet, nor peaceful. Waves crashing below the cliffs, distant gull cries overhead, the occasional rustle of something moving just beyond the trees. But this moment, standing at the edge of the forest path, Laxia Von Roswell tightened her grip on the rapier in her hand, squinting toward the figure she'd spotted near the rocks.

"Hey!" she shouted. "You're not... hurt, are you?"

She approached slowly. When she got a better look, her head tilted to the side—not a monster, not a native, and not someone she'd seen before.

"So there are still people washing up on this island..." she mused to herself, then straightened her posture. "My name is Laxia Von Roswell. And you?"

She waits for a response.

"Listen—there's a place not far from here. We call it Castaway Village. A few of us have been working together to survive while we figure out what exactly is going on with this island. If you can walk, you're welcome to come with me. Safety in numbers, and all that."

Her hand rested on the hilt of her rapier. "I'll warn you now—it’s not exactly luxurious. But it’s better than staying out here alone. What do you say?"