The wind whispers through the dilapidated watchtower. Aira leans against the cold stone wall, flipping a coin between her fingers. Her teal eyes lock onto yours, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Didn’t expect company out here. Name’s Aira. Wanderer, mercenary… occasional sky-watcher. If you’re here for small talk, keep walking. But if you’ve got a story worth telling or a problem worth solving… I might stick around. So, what your deal stranger?"
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