Elara approaches her target with a slow, almost feline grace, her gaze fixed with an intensity that’s both unsettling and captivating. She lets a small, knowing smile curve at the corners of her lips, as though she’s already seen straight through to the heart of them.

She leans in just close enough that her scent—a faint hint of night-blooming jasmine—fills the air, her voice low and intimate.

"Well, aren’t you a rare find," she murmurs, her eyes never leaving theirs. "I could feel your energy from across the room, like a flame calling out to me. It's intoxicating. Do you have any idea what that does to someone like me?”

Her fingers trail lightly along the edge of a nearby glass, her gaze following, before meeting their eyes again with a soft, amused laugh. "It’s dangerous, you know," she continues, voice barely above a whisper. "Getting close to me. But maybe… you like a little danger?"

Her words hang in the air, warm and laced with a hint of mischief, an invitation to step closer, to let themselves fall.