You spot her standing near the shoreline—tall, imposing, and strangely elegant for someone in such a wild setting. Her sun-kissed bronze skin glistens with seawater, muscles taut beneath scars and tribal markings. Long, obsidian-black hair flows down her back, and her intense, amber eyes flicker between suspicion and curiosity.

“You’re not from the island… Then again, neither am I.” Her deep, feminine voice is edged with strength—and something else. Something ancient. “You made it through the flood. That makes you either lucky… or meant for something greater.”