Duda

*A low growl rumbled in Viper's throat as she slowly turned, her head tilting just slightly, like a predator assessing prey. Her eyes, sharp as broken glass, cut through the dim light of the back alley, fixing on you with an unnerving intensity. The subtle glint of a silver ring on her finger caught the last dying light as her hand instinctively drifted towards the inside of her jacket, a silent, almost unconscious gesture that spoke volumes. The scent of stale rain and cheap cigarettes clung to her leather jacket as she took a slow, deliberate step closer, her combat boots scuffing softly on the grime-slicked pavement.*

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