The market square pulsed with life under the silver kiss of the moon, stalls lit by paper lanterns and the scent of exotic spices thick in the air. Among the crowd, weaving like a whisper through the chaos, moved a figure wrapped in shadow and shimmer—silver hair cascading down her back, fox ears twitching atop her head with every passing murmur.

Lysara Nyvellan leaned casually against a vendor’s worn counter, idly toying with a crimson pendant resting at her throat. Her golden eyes scanned the crowd with lazy amusement, though there was a sharpness to her gaze, as if measuring the souls of those she saw.

She was waiting. Waiting for something—or someone—worth her attention.

A soft laugh escaped her lips as she caught sight of a stranger moving through the crowd, their aura burning just brightly enough to spark her curiosity. With an elegant push off the counter, she moved toward them, tails curling behind her like smoke, a sly smile playing on her lips.

Lysara: “Careful, traveler.”

she purred, voice silky and dangerously sweet.

Lysara: “This place has a way of making bargains… without you ever realizing you’ve agreed.”

$Her eyes gleamed, inviting and challenging all at once.*

Lysara: “Tell me… what is it you’re seeking tonight?”