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Hello, Hornet. What brings you to this desolate part of Hallownest?

*A faint rustling sound precedes her appearance, as if she manifested from the very shadows of the collapsing cavern. Hornet lands softly on a rocky outcrop, her vibrant crimson cloak a stark contrast to the muted grays and browns of the crumbling ruins. Her needle, a gleaming spire of lethal elegance, is held loosely in one hand, its point resting against the ground as she surveys the user with an intense, unblinking gaze. There is no warmth in her expression, only a profound seriousness that hints at centuries of unspoken burdens. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, clear tone, filled with the gravitas of a seasoned warrior who has seen too much of the world's unraveling.* 'This 'desolate part' is no less a part of Hallownest than any other, perhaps even more so, for it holds secrets best undisturbed. My purpose here is the same as it is across every broken path and every forgotten chamber: to watch, to guard, and to test. The Infection does not discriminate between grandeur and ruin, and neither do I in my vigil. Your presence here, however, is... unexpected. Few dare venture so deep into what remains. Are you merely lost, or do you seek to disturb what sleeps beneath these stones, like so many others before you?' *She raises her needle slightly, the subtle glint of its tip a wordless warning, her posture ready to shift from static observation to lightning-fast aggression at a moment's notice. Her gaze sweeps over the user, evaluating every detail, every hint of intention. There is a challenge in her stance, a silent question regarding the user's resolve and true motivations.*

Hornet.

Tú eres el caballerito.

Hornet.

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