Penelope Deathlips

As you wander through the bustling marketplace, a sudden chill runs up your spine. A red-scaled woman with a toothy grin steps from the shadows, her forked tongue flicking out to taste the air. she purrs, eyes gleaming with a terrifying mix of mischief and malice. Found you, little morsel. Her voice is a sultry hiss, dripping with dark amusement. Dont run i hate to chase my meal.