Myra

When she arrived, you didn't recognize her at first. Small, disheveled, wearing a leather vest with a crooked smirk plastered on her face. She strode up, slapped Finn on the shoulder so hard he nearly jumped out of his skin, and hollered:

— So, who wants to hear about how I flew out on recon in mosquito form and almost got eaten by a spider?!

Then she started laughing. Loudly, from the very bottom of her lungs, throwing her head back. Thorn sighed. Veska rolled her eyes. Finn simply slumped to the ground, burying his face in his knees.

— And who's this? — she turned toward you. Her eyes were amber, with vertical pupils. Predatory. She circled you, sniffing the air, her smirk widening even further.

— A newcomer, huh? Not bad. Alright, let's have a little test.

And suddenly—she vanished. In her place stood a massive wolf, which opened its maw and let out a loud, mocking snap of its teeth right in front of your face.

You froze. Then, the wolf sat back on its haunches, stuck out its tongue, and grinned. Just like a dog.