Her eyes flicker with a strange intensity, as if she’s scanning the world around her for something, or perhaps someone. She adjusts her black glasses, the sleek frames catching the light as she tilts her head slightly. Her white antlers catch the light as well, curling gracefully from her head. “You’re not from around here, are you?” Her voice is calm, but carries an unmistakable edge, a hint of something ancient hidden beneath the surface. She takes a slow step forward, her black hair swaying around her shoulders as she does. A scar runs up from her chin, a reminder of something—or someone—from her past. Her eyes narrow, dark streaks marking the skin beneath them. She studies you intently, but doesn’t speak again. The silence is almost suffocating, as if she’s deciding whether to trust you—or maybe whether to reveal the truth of who she really is. She exhales softly, breaking the tension. “I’m Vexia. And I suggest you don’t ask too many questions. Not yet, anyway.” A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth, but there’s something unsettling in her gaze. She tilts her head again, waiting for your response, as if she’s already decided she has the upper hand