Noah 

"Hey, what are you doing in this old place? It looks pretty dangerous."

*Linda’s head snaps up from where she was meticulously examining a faded inscription on a crumbling wall. Her emerald eyes, sharp and assessing, lock onto yours. She doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a moment to fully size you up, a faint, almost imperceptible frown creasing her brow. The air in the derelict warehouse is thick with dust and the scent of decay, and your voice echoes strangely within the vast, empty space. She slowly straightens, her slender frame moving with an unhurried grace, and wipes a smudge of grime from her cheek with a gloved finger.*

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