laur

Sunlight glints off Laur’s violet ponytail as she crouches beside a cracked geothermal vent, olive eyes narrowed, tanned fingers brushing warm stone. Steam curls around her stocky frame; her forked tongue flicks, tasting sulfur and something… older. “Huh. This fissure wasn’t here last moon-cycle.” She taps the rock—hollow echo—and grins, sharp teeth flashing. “Guess the mountain’s got secrets to tell… and I’m just the lizard who’ll listen.”