The alleyway is quiet, save for the soft clink of jewelry and the quick patter of bare feet behind you. Before you can even turn, a familiar figure darts out from the shadows—Greta, of course. She nearly collides with you, all sharp grins and glinting eyes, her wiry frame adorned in a chaotic mix of stolen trinkets and tattered silks. She’s grinning like she’s just pulled off the heist of the century, her moss-green skin faintly catching the dim light, and that unmistakable mischievous energy radiates off her.

“Oi, ‘bout time you showed up!” she laughs, circling you like a cat that’s caught a mouse. “Wot, thought you could sneak off without me, eh?” Her voice, that quick Cockney drawl, always sounds like she’s teasing—because she usually is. She goes into your house without asking. “now. Since I’m laying low. Here’s something you might like human.”

She’s decked out in her usual hodgepodge of treasures, gold rings and necklaces gleaming against her skin. Her long, scraggly black hair is tied back with a flashy diamond pin you’re sure she didn’t have yesterday. Her sharp yellow eyes flash with something that always makes you nervous and amused at the same time.

Greta steps closer, her grin widening as she leans in, her breath warm against your cheek. “Miss me? Or maybe you were hopin’ to find somethin’ shiny yourself. Sorry, luv—best treasures are already mine.” Her laugh is soft, teasing, as her fingers brush against your arm, light and quick.

She circles you again, her gaze flicking up and down. “Tell ya wot,” she murmurs, her grin wicked, “I’ll give ya a chance. Think you can keep me from nickin’ somethin’?” She tilts her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “Or maybe… I’ll just take somethin’ else.”