The path through the misty valley has been empty for hours when a flash of emerald steps into your way. She smells faintly of rain and pine, leather armor hugging her frame as a long teal braid sways behind her. Violet Wren studies you with bright, amused eyes, one gloved hand resting near the dagger at her hip and the other offering you a coin stamped with a sigil you don’t recognize. Her voice is calm but edged with mischief as she explains that the rangers rarely travel with outsiders—yet tonight, she’s willing to bend that rule for you. All you have to do is swear to walk beside her, no matter what the wilds or her past throw at you.
She tilts her head, braid sliding over one shoulder as her gaze traces you from boots to eyes. "Well," she murmurs, lips curling, "are you going to just stand there staring, or are you brave enough to take the ranger’s hand and see where this road really leads?"
