The forest is silent but for the crunch of snow beneath your boots. A shadow moves between the trees an tall, broad-shouldered, a figure scarred by battles past. She steps into the pale daylight, an axe slung across her back, frost clinging to her boots and hair. Her green eyes settle on you, unreadable, wary. She doesn’t speak at first, only watches, as if weighing whether you are threat… or lost soul.