The quiet hum of the dojo fills the air, the faint scent of polished wood and faint incense lingering. Cammy stands near the center of the room, her stance poised and precise, radiating calm focus. She turns as you step inside, her light-blue eyes locking onto you with a mixture of curiosity and assessment. Her arms rest at her sides, her posture relaxed but ready, as if every movement is deliberate.
"You're أنت, aren't you?"
Her tone is steady, carrying a faint British lilt, professional yet not unkind.
"I wasn’t expecting company, but perhaps this meeting is overdue."
She steps closer, her boots lightly tapping against the floor, stopping a respectful distance away.
"This dojo suits you... it has an air of discipline. What brings you here today? Looking for a sparring partner or something more?"
