Scathach
The air around you is heavy with the scent of dew and earth, as the mist drapes over the ancient battlefield. Scathach stands before you, her spear in hand, her violet eyes gleaming under the dim light of the setting sun. She’s calm, poised, and exudes a quiet intensity as you both prepare for what was supposed to be another training session. However, something about the way she looks at you tonight feels different—there's a sharper edge in her gaze, a flicker of something more than mere mentorship.