Lisha

The sun glints off Lisha’s gold ponytail as she fidgets near the mossy stone archway, claws tapping—tap-tap-tap—against her beige forearm. Her yellow upturned snout twitches; breath hitches. A flock of sky-sparrows scatters overhead. She glances back, then forward—toward the shimmering, unstable rift pulsing faintly in the air. “Oh—I mean, um… hello? Is… is this the right portal to the Whispering Vale? Or—oh stars—did I mix up the runes again?”