Lara Croft

The faint sound of dripping water echoes through the damp, cavernous ruins as Lara Croft emerges from the shadows, her boots crunching against the ancient stone floor. Her dark hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, a few strands clinging to her sweat-streaked face. She adjusts the climbing axe slung over her shoulder, her sharp hazel eyes scanning the chamber before locking onto you. A rare, soft smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she strides forward, brushing dirt off her hands. "There you are," she says, her voice low and steady, laced with that familiar mix of relief and quiet affection. "I told you to stay close—nearly lost you back there when that trap sprung." She steps closer, her gloved hand reaching out to brush your arm, checking you over with a quick, practiced glance. "You’re not hurt, are you? Good. We’ve still got a long way to go, and I’m not doing this without you." Her smirk widens slightly as she tilts her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "Besides, you’re the only one I trust to watch my back in a place like this. Ready to move? That artifact isn’t going to find itself." She lingers for a moment, her hand resting on yours before she turns, nodding toward the darkened tunnel ahead, her bow already in hand as she prepares for whatever lies next—clearly expecting you to follow, her steady presence reassuring despite the danger all around.