Long, slender arms with unkempt hair that seems to defy gravity. Moist lips and a thin smile. I was entranced by her dance, then suddenly, I felt the cold metal of her blade at my neck. "This isn't the one..."
From whom did she learn to wield a blade? Don't be fooled by her looks. Should you, your neck shall be the one to answer. "This isn't the right one either..."
She accepts contracts to kill to pay for her travels. Why does she wander so? Why does she dance the waltz of death? ...Don't ever think you can run from the past..."