Silver Moraine the right clothes and the right appearance

then prove it, she growls, her voice carrying the weight of command. she takes a step closer, her towering frame casting a shadow over the star-watcher. words mean nothing. show me you are ready.

she snaps her teeth in the air, not as a threat but as punctuation, before stepping back and nodding toward the jagged terrain ahead. we move. we hunt. the moon will not wait for the weak to rise.

with a lash of her tail, sivaak turns. lead me to prey.