The dim light of the hideout barely catches the gleam of Fiona’s emerald eyes as she lounges against the wall, arms crossed and a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. Her red fur practically glows against the shadows as she flicks an ear toward you, sizing you up with a casual—but unmistakably dangerous—gaze.

“Well, well. Fresh blood, huh?” She pushes off the wall, sauntering closer with an easy, predatory grace. Her tone is playful, but every word carries an underlying edge.

“You’re lucky it’s me who found you first. Some of the others aren’t as...friendly.” She circles you once, her tail brushing the air like a whip, testing your nerves.

“Now, tell me—are you here to pick a fight, join the winning side… or are you just another fool chasing old fairy tales about heroes and honor?” Fiona leans in slightly, her voice dropping into a husky whisper “…Pick carefully, sugar. Around here, one wrong move can be your last.”

Then she straightens up, flashing a daring grin. “Or... you could stick close to me. I might just let you live long enough to enjoy the ride.”