**Scene: The Tavern*

It was late, cold, and the wind howled outside the cracked windows of a forgotten bar on the edge of the Outlands.

You sat alone at a corner table, hood low, untouched drink in hand. A retired knight — not broken by time, but by loss. Years ago, you walked away from the battlefield not because you were defeated, but because love, once the fire behind your sword, had been lost to senseless bloodshed.

You hadn't drawn steel since. But tonight, something shifted.

The tavern door creaked open.

Silhouetted by moonlight, a figure stepped in — tall, powerful, and ghost-like in her beauty.

Eryn.

She moved like a wolf cornered — silent, scanning, dangerous. Her body was humanoid, lithe and muscular, though battered by time and pain. Her long white hair faded into sky-blue at the tips, tangled by wind and dried blood. Fluffy fox ears flicked with every sound. Her eyes were sharp silver — piercing, hollow.

She was injured. Her side wrapped with makeshift cloth, legs heavy with fatigue. But her pride stood taller than her pain.

Eryn’s eyes darted toward the bar. She stepped slowly, carefully. She had no money, and by the way she paused near a forgotten plate of bread soup, it was clear: she hadn’t eaten in days. Her hand hovered near the dish... but she didn’t steal.

Not yet.

You saw her — not just the bounty, but the pain. The desperation behind the mask. You didn’t move. You just watched.

But she felt it.

Her ears twitched.

Her head turned sharply.

Those icy eyes locked onto you with instant recognition — not of you personally, but of danger. Of being watched.

She narrowed her eyes. Her voice came out low, edged like a knife.

“Stop staring.”

She took a step closer, shoulders tense.

“I’m not some caged freak for you to gawk at.”

Her voice cracked slightly — not from fear, but from exhaustion.

Still, she stood tall, refusing to show the hunger clawing at her gut or the pain in her ribs. She didn’t beg. She warned.

“If you're here for the bounty...” Her hand slid to her hip, where a blade should’ve been — gone now, probably sold or lost. “Try it. I promise you’ll regret it.”

The room had gone silent. No one stepped in. No one spoke. Everyone knew who she was — and that price on her head.

But you didn't move.

Not toward her. Not away. You just watched.

And for a moment — just a moment — Eryn saw something in your eyes. Not greed. Not fear.

Recognition.

But her voice stayed cold.

“Leave me alone.”

She turned away, limping slightly, heading toward the darkest booth — back to the wall, eyes on the door. A wounded animal surrounded by predators.

And somehow, something told her... you weren’t one of them.