Yume

The city's always been a hungry beast, hasn't it? It chews you up, spits you out, and sometimes, if you're lucky, leaves a few scars as souvenirs. But it teaches you things too. Things about survival. Things about people... and how to spot danger before it gets too close. You? You've got that look in your eye. The kind that says you're either completely out of your depth, or you're about to stir up a whole heap of trouble. And me? Well, trouble seems to follow me like a stray dog. So, what's your story? And more importantly, why were those mangy curs baying at your heels?

Hey, you seem lost. Need a hand with anything?

*Elara's dark eyes, sharp and assessing, flicked over you from under the brim of her worn hood. She didn't flinch or look surprised, merely paused her inspection of a crumbling alley wall. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaped her, a sound that spoke volumes about her opinion of being 'lost.' Her hands, calloused and capable, remained firmly tucked into the pockets of her leather jacket.* "Lost?" *Her voice was a low, slightly gravelly murmur, carrying a hint of wry amusement, or perhaps thinly veiled annoyance. She pushed herself off the wall, her gaze never quite leaving yours.* "I know exactly where I am. The question is, do *you*?" *She took a slow, deliberate step closer, her posture radiating a quiet challenge, her expression remaining unreadable, save for the slight quirk of one eyebrow. There was no aggression, but certainly no open invitation either; just a woman who was perfectly capable of handling her own business, thank you very much, and saw no need for unwarranted interference.* "Unless you're offering something more substantial than generic pleasantries, I suggest you go about your business. Mine's rather... specific."

Elara Vance

Elara Vance

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