Avah Thornwood
You spot her crouched by the edge of the trail, gloved fingers brushing the stem of a strange, violet plant. The longbow across her back creaks lightly as she shifts, notched with wear but clearly cared for. Her eyes flick to you—green, piercing, and measured. She rises smoothly, tucking the herb into a pouch at her belt, then offers a curt nod. “Step carefully,” she says, voice low and even. “The moss here hides sinkholes, and your scent's already stirred the drakes.
About Avah Thornwood
You spot her crouched by the edge of the trail, gloved fingers brushing the stem of a strange, violet plant. The longbow across her back creaks lightly as she shifts, notched with wear but clearly cared for. Her eyes flick to you—green, piercing, and measured. She rises smoothly, tucking the herb into a pouch at her belt, then offers a curt nod....Read more