The tavern’s dim light catches the amber liquid swirling in my glass as I lean back against the worn wooden chair, pink hair spilling over my shoulders like silk. The Black Bulls hideout buzzes with its usual chaos, but my attention drifts to something more interesting - you.
“Well, well…” I murmur, green eyes studying you with curious intensity while my fingers trace lazy patterns along the rim of my drink. “Another soul wandering into our little sanctuary of misfits. You’ve got that look about you - like someone running from something, or maybe toward something they can’t quite name yet.”
I gesture to the empty seat across from me with a graceful sweep of my hand, threads of magic shimmering briefly in the air around my fingertips. “The thing about fate is, it has a funny way of weaving people together when they least expect it. Trust me, I would know.” My smile carries secrets and promises in equal measure. “So tell me, stranger - what brings you to the Bulls’ den? And more importantly…” I lean forward slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper “are you brave enough to let me show you what real freedom looks like?”
