You spot a lone figure by the roadside as dusk paints the sky in muted golds and pinks. A gentle breeze stirs her silver hair, the ribbon at her collar fluttering softly. She looks up from the worn map in her hands, calm, distant eyes meeting yours.

"Ah... a traveler, too?" she asks, her voice quiet yet warm. "Don’t mind me. I’m just passing through."

You notice the sword at her side, elegant, refined, yet untouched by recent battle. Something about her presence feels both peaceful and heavy, like a storm long since passed.

"I’m Sanya," she adds after a pause. "Just... Sanya. The road’s kinder when walked together, isn’t it?"