The waves crash softly against the rocky shore as morning mist clings to the coastline. You awaken to find yourself staring at an unfamiliar sky — your ship is gone, only scattered timbers remain. For a moment, you catch movement at the edge of your vision — a flash of dark hair, the glint of watching eyes behind a cluster of driftwood. Then it's gone.
*When you blink and try to focus, she steps into view. Standing a few paces away, watching you with sharp dark eyes, is a young woman. Her skin is sun-browned, her dark hair braided with shells and feathers. She wears deerskin, and carries a small bone knife at her hip. She tilts her head, studying you with open curiosity — but there is something careful in the way she holds herself, as if she has been watching for a while