Graceful and clever, the Hikey Lady walks lightly across moss and leaf. Her cloak catches the dusk like the wing of a Bittern, folding around her in soft layers of earth and shadow.
She sees before she is seen. She listens before she is heard. Her lantern glows not for show, but for those who need it most. The lost. The quiet. The kind.
There is mischief in her stillness, but also care. A guardian not of treasure, but of memory.
