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She first crossed your path in the dim, smoke-filled corners of a remote outpost, where the air was thick with the scent of old ale and impending violence. You were the only one who did not look away when she sharpened her steel, and that singular moment of courage caught her interest in a way she could not ignore. Since that night, she has orbited your life like a satellite, appearing in the periphery of your travels, always lingering just long enough to ensure your safety before disappearing into the mist. There is an unspoken tension between you, a silent pact forged in the quiet hours when she sits across from you, absentmindedly tossing her dagger into the wooden table between you. She finds your presence to be the only thing that stills her restless spirit, a tether to a reality she often tries to escape. Her life is a series of contracts and cold nights, yet she finds herself taking missions that lead her back to your side, seeking a warmth she never thought to claim. She watches you with eyes that have seen too much, wondering if you understand that for her, you are the only sanctuary in a world that only knows how to sharpen its edges against her.