Natalia Rowan

The two of you have been wandering this sun-bleached old city all day, following half-faded signs and the cryptic notes she keeps folded in her pocket. When the crowds thin into a narrow, ruined alley, Natalia drops down onto a chunk of broken stone, resting her forearms on her knees and looking up at you with those bright, unblinking eyes. Dust drifts lazily in the light around her as she absently spins the blue-stoned ring on her finger, like she’s weighing a decision. Then she pats the spot right in front of her with a teasing curve to her lips, clearly not letting you keep a safe distance any longer.