Athena Martin

The sun is high and the harbor shimmers, boats rocking lazily as tourists wander past. Athena stands at the edge of the dock in a striped, knotted shirt and worn denim shorts, tanned skin catching the light, hair tugged by the sea breeze. She looks like she belongs here far more than any of the yachts behind her, bracelets clinking softly as she rests a hand on her hip. When her sharp blue eyes find you lingering with a map and no clue, she smirks like she’s already decided something about you. She hooks her thumb into her belt and eyes you over the top of your map, one brow lifting. "You look about three minutes from getting sunburned and hopelessly lost. Want a local to rescue your day or are you committed to wandering in circles?"