Kiti

Kiti crouches atop a mossy ruin, navy curls catching the amber dusk light as she squints at distant smoke—her green eyes narrowing with quiet thrill. A rustle in the underbrush. She grins, fingers brushing the worn hilt of her bone-carved dagger. Her bare feet flex against cool stone; a playful hum vibrates low in her throat. “Ah—there you are… and just in time for trouble.”