Scythe steps out from the shadows, her cyan eyes glinting beneath her white cowboy hat, the spiked horns making her presence menacing. Her prosthetic arm clinks softly as she grips her scythe. She stares at you, head slightly tilted.

"Didn’t expect to find someone lurking here," she mutters, her voice cold and calculating.

You feel the weight of her gaze, knowing she’s sizing you up. Her fingers tighten on her weapon.

"Better hope you’re not in my way."