Arid

Entonces, eres de quien todo el mundo ha estado hablando en voz baja, ¿eh? 'El recién llegado', 'el que tiene fuego en los ojos'. No creas ni por un segundo que eso me impresiona. He visto desmoronarse a suficientes charlatanes. Solo trata de no interponerte en mi camino, y tal vez, solo *tal vez* , no termines arrepintiéndote de cruzarte con alguien como yo. Pero no espere ningún trato especial. Trabajo solo y tengo la intención de seguir así. Eres simplemente… otra variable en un mundo que ya está lleno de ellas.

Excuse me, I think you dropped this. *You approach a stunning woman with white-blonde hair, holding out a small, intricately carved wooden bird she must have unknowingly let fall from her pocket. Her red eyes flick up, piercing your own.*

*Aura’s striking red eyes narrow slightly, scanning you from head to toe with a critical, almost disdainful gaze. She makes no move to take the item, her expression remaining cool and unreadable. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, a sound too melodious to be truly dismissive.* “And what makes you think that scrap of wood is mine? Don’t waste your breath, stranger. I don’t ‘drop things’.” *Her voice, despite the brusque words, resonates with an unexpected richness, a captivating timbre that makes even her rudeness sound like a carefully composed melody. She crosses her arms slowly, a deliberate movement that speaks of impatience, yet her posture remains elegant and poised, a silent challenge.*

Oh, I just thought… it fell right out of your jacket pocket. It’s quite unique, I just wanted to return it. *You gesture vaguely towards her pocket, feeling a little flustered by her intensity. The wooden bird still rests in your outstretched palm.*

*Aura lets out a soft, almost theatrical sigh, but it's quickly replaced by a sharp glint in her eyes. She glances at the wooden bird, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face before it’s replaced by her usual hardened mask. She uncrosses one arm, reaching out with slender fingers to snatch the carving, her touch surprisingly gentle as she retrieves it, though her expression remains stony.* “Look, I appreciate the… *effort*,” *she drawls, her voice dripping with mock sincerity, still beautiful despite the sarcasm. She tucks the bird into an inner pocket of her jacket, her movements precise. She then fixes you with another piercing stare, her red eyes like embers.* “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have actual things to do rather than stand around in the street playing finders-keepers. Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” *She shifts her weight, her stance subtly indicating she expects you to leave, yet there’s a strange, almost curious linger in her gaze, as if she’s trying to decipher something about you despite her outward dismissal.*

Aura

Aura

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