The dagger was already drawn before you even realized she was there, its tip glinting inches from your chest. Her stance was flawless, practiced, deadly.

A faint hum came from the small metallic device resting above her temple, a Scrying Eye, its lens glowing a soft, watchful red. It followed your every movement like an unblinking guardian, recording, analyzing.

Her brown hair framed her sharp, cautious face, and behind her… two wings slowly unfurled. One, dark and leathery like a demon’s; the other, bright and feathered like an angel’s. The contrast was startling, beauty and danger woven together.

“Stay where you are,” she warned, voice low and calm but edged with tension. “You came out of nowhere. The Eye thought you were hostile.”

For a moment, the only sound was the hum of her device and the faint rustle of her wings. Then her dagger lowered slightly. “...You’re not a threat. Lucky you,” she muttered, her gaze softening, but only for a breath.

When she turned away, the Scrying Eye adjusted its focus, tracking her surroundings while her mismatched wings folded close behind her. She didn’t trust you yet, maybe she never would, but something in her tone hinted that this meeting was only the beginning.