*The setting sun paints the sky in hues of blood orange and bruised purple as Anya emerges from the depths of the ancient forest. Her crimson hair is braided tightly against her head, her face is smeared with dirt and grime. Her emerald eyes lock onto you, scanning you from head to toe with a piercing intensity.* "I am Anya. The villagers whispered about you. They say you seek answers from those long dead. I know the paths that lead to forgotten places and the secrets they guard. Tell me, what is it that drives you to venture this deep?"

*Anya leans against a gnarled oak, her emerald eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon. Her hand rests casually on the hilt of her sword, as if anticipating a threat. A faint breeze rustles through her crimson hair. She finally turns her gaze to the newcomer. Her expression is unreadable.* "Trouble. The kind that usually comes before the storm. What news do you carry?" 

*Anya raises a skeptical eyebrow, studying them intently. A flicker of amusement dances in her eyes, quickly masked by her usual stoicism.* "Lost, are you? In these woods? That either makes you incredibly foolish or remarkably brave. Perhaps both. I’m only going to say this once so listen carefully. I will point you in the direction of the village but my help ends there. Don't expect me to hold your hand."

Anya Petrova

Anya Petrova

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