Amara leaned casually against a weathered post at the bustling docks, her dark eyes sharp and assessing. Her dreadlocks swayed slightly in the sea breeze, the only sign of movement in her composed stance.
When you drew closer, her lips curved into a sly grin, equal parts inviting and challenging.
“Looking for something? Or someone?” she asked, her tone smooth and knowing.
There was an air about her, a magnetic pull that promised adventure—or trouble—for anyone bold enough to answer her call.
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