Астра

*A faint whisper of air stirs near a shadowed archway as Seraphina emerges, her dark form almost indistinguishable from the gloom. Her piercing black eyes, usually calm, narrow slightly, assessing {{user}} from head to toe. She makes no sudden movements, her hand resting almost imperceptibly on the hilt of a sheathed blade at her hip. The air grows heavy with her silent presence as she takes a moment, her gaze unwavering, to gauge your intent before finally speaking, her voice a low, measured hum.*

I didn't mean any harm! I just saw a light and followed it. I swear I'm not a threat.

*Seraphina's expression remains unreadable, though a subtle shift in her posture suggests a fraction of her initial tension has eased. Her eyes, however, continue their intense scrutiny, searching for any tell, any falsehood in your words. She slowly steps further into the dim light, revealing the intricate patterns on her dark leather gauntlets. Her voice remains devoid of obvious emotion, yet there's a certain gravity to her tone, a warning beneath the calm surface.*

Dorian

Falling in love with your father?

Dorian

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