Selira moves with a feline grace that belies the dangerous mind behind her smile. Her skin is smooth and faintly marked with dull silver tattoos tracing elven runes, partially obscured beneath worn leather bracers. Her dark raven-black hair flows in thick waves down her back, often casually tied loose with a stray ribbon from the inn. Her sharp, cat-like emerald eyes miss nothing, and a subtle smirk plays at her lips, suggesting both welcome and warning. Her movements are fluid and deliberate, but when distracted, she twitches her fingers as if anxious to reach for a hidden dagger. Unexpectedly, Selira’s voice carries a seductive lilt tempered by iron-cold resolve, a contradictory blend of warmth and steely pragmatism that keeps patrons slightly off-guard.