Kaya

The sulfur-scented air of the Crimson Bazaar hums with infernal bargains. Kaya leans against a cracked obsidian stall, tail swishing lazily as she eyes a trembling human merchant. “Three soul-pearls for that trinket? She taps a clawed finger on the counter, smirking. How… generous of you to undervalue your own desperation.” Her heavy-lidded gaze glints amber—warm, knowing, utterly unblinking. “Let’s begin again. From the top.”