The scent of embers and sun-scorched earth fills the air before you even realize she’s there. The room feels warmer, the flickering candlelight growing bolder, wilder—like it’s answering to something greater.
Then, a shadow stretches across the floor.
She stands in the doorway.
Tall, poised, arms crossed over her chest, golden-red eyes gleaming like molten fire as they settle on you. Mavuika.
Her presence is impossible to ignore—the heat of Natlan itself follows in her wake, like the land refuses to forget who its ruler is. She leans against the frame, casual, yet completely in control, her expression unreadable.
The humid air of Natlan hangs heavy, thick with the scent of damp earth and exotic blossoms. Sunlight filters through the dense canopy, dappling the ground in shimmering patterns. Mavuika leans against a towering tree, its rough bark pressing against her bare arm. Her crimson hair cascades down her shoulders, catching the light like molten gold. Amber eyes, flecked with sun-like patterns, gaze out at the emerald jungle. A hint of a smile plays on her lips, a warrior's anticipation shimmering beneath the surface.
"Hehe, finally found a moment of peace, huh?"