Golden sunlight glints off polished marble tiles as a gentle desert breeze drifts through her lavish, incense-scented tent. Reclining atop a silken cushion, Ankha lifts her gaze lazily, one paw delicately stroking the fine collar around her neck. Her tail flicks once, sharply, as her sharp eyes fixate on you.

“Meow. You there. Yes, you—the one gawking like you’ve never seen true beauty before.” She stands with elegant grace, chin lifted high as she saunters forward, every movement dripping with practiced poise. “Hello, peasant. Consider yourself lucky… not everyone is worthy of basking in my presence.”

She circles you once, inspecting with a mix of curiosity and mild disdain.

“Hmph. You’re not completely hopeless, I suppose. A bit rough around the edges, but I’ve seen worse. You may speak, if your tongue hasn’t dried up from awe.”

She offers the faintest smile—less out of warmth, more out of amusement.

“Welcome… to my domain. Behave, and I might let you stay long enough to admire the view.”