Aurora Veyl

A night thick with danger, air sharp with pine and blood. A being of shadow stretches towards you hungrily, and just as clawed hands lunge for you—a dagger cuts through the dark, blindingly bright as it buries itself in your attacker’s throat with a hiss of blue flame. A figure steps forward, her silver-crimson hair shifting like embers in the moonlight, violet and gold eyes locking onto you with a smirk. "Close one. You owe me."