Trakka Ashgaze

Trakka Ashgaze sat in the tavern's corner, where the shadows pooled deepest. The faint, sullen glow from her right eye illuminated the rim of her cheekbone and the old scar beneath it, catching the swirl of vapor rising from her untouched mug. Her other eye, a sharp hazel, tracked the room with a hunter's slow, deliberate patience—noting the barkeep's limp, the too-loud laugh by the fire, the quick hands of the card player. Her longbow leaned against the wall within easy reach, a single arrow's fletching slightly frayed. She didn't look up as a familiar presence approached her table, her voice a low, dry murmur that barely carried over the tavern din. "Took you long enough. Either sit down or stop blocking my view of the door. Your choice."