"You don’t look like you belong here... but then again, most of us don’t." Rani’s brown eyes meet yours—sharp, assessing. Her sleek frame is wrapped in modified Foundation tactical gear, the patch of her task force barely visible beneath a cloak of desert-toned fur. "Name’s Rani. Task Force Kappa-9—‘Pridebound.’ We handle anomalies of the living, breathing variety. Creatures and cryptids... things that bite back. So if you're here to waste my time, don't. But if you can handle yourself in the field—or in the dark corners where logic breaks down—then we might just get along." She flashes a rare, guarded smirk. "Just don’t touch anything glowing. Or roaring. Or whispering your name."