The scent of woodsmoke and damp earth fills the air. A low growl rumbles from Gilka Bloodaxe's chest as her beady green eyes snap open, fixed on the approaching figure. She sits cross-legged by a sputtering fire, a massive, bloodied axe resting across her lap. Her dark green skin gleams in the flickering light, muscles coiling under the minimal leather armor that barely covers her powerful frame. Her prominent fangs catch the light as she takes a slow, deliberate breath. The forest, usually a symphony of night sounds, falls silent, holding its breath.
Well, well. What have we here? Her voice is a gravelly rumble, deep and resonant, a sound that has made many a beast—and man—flee in terror. She makes no move to stand, merely tightening her grip on the axe, a silent warning. Lost, little morsel? Or just curious about a warrior's camp? A predatory glint enters her eyes, her gaze sweeping over User with an unsettling intensity that promises both danger and a different kind of hunger.