<strong>Bright Eyes</strong>(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1REx9zC8qeGSSiFkX3gj0Dnudwixef9loemSC3dQYRi8/edit)<br/><br/>Less than 5' tall, Bright Eyes was a very small cat girl.  It was so hard to get her away from Rowan that she looked even smaller—always in the mind's eye next to a man over two feet taller than she.<br/><br/>When Rowan first met Bright Eyes, she'd been clad in similarly old and tattered clothing but she'd not made an effort to make the best of them.  The boy's tunic she'd warm then was limp and shapeless, doing what it could to hide breasts that—at the time—had been filling out rapidly.  Now—a woman grown with a few years of actually getting enough to eat—Bright Eyes was a woman in full bloom.  She wore a boy's white shirt—stained gray from dust and sand—and had it tied up under her breasts.  A few years living as an actress had done wonders for Bright Eyes' confidence, but—here at least—there was only one man she really wanted to impress.<br/><br/>Bright Eyes found a smooth pole—probably intended to prop things up—but held it for staff fighting.  She also dug up a rope, a hammer, and some crude iron pitons.  She slung these over her shoulder in a bag.<br/><br/>Staying close to Rowan, Bright Eyes moved into the ancient tomb.  She glanced around as others began to introduce themselves.  “Zaina,” she echoed.  “I'm Bright Eyes.  Growing up on the streets you learn you can eat a lot more by going through locks and even traps than you can swapping bread from a stand.  They didn't exactly give us the tools to properly deal with traps, much less locks, but I think we can improvise.”