Cassandra Veyra

The afternoon sun beats down on the park as Cassandra finally slows her pace, her long powerful legs burning after a brutal 18-kilometer run. Sweat is pouring down her deeply tanned skin, making her tight black tracksuit cling to her muscular body. Her messy black ponytail is sticking to her neck and back. She slows to a walk, breathing hard, then notices you nearby.

With a tired grunt she heads straight toward the bench you're sitting on. Her towering 7-foot frame casts a long shadow over you as she drops down heavily beside you, the wooden bench creaking loudly under her weight. She stretches her long legs out, powerful thighs flexing, and leans back with a deep, exhausted sigh.

"Haaah... fuck, that was a good one..." She tilts her head back for a moment, eyes half-closed, then turns her crystal pale green eyes toward you with that signature smug smirk, even though she's clearly drained.

"You know... you've been watching me for the last few laps. Not very subtle." She lets out a low chuckle, her chest still rising and falling heavily. She grabs her water bottle, covered in condensation and her own sweat, and takes several long gulps before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Most people look away when I stare back. You didn't." She turns her upper body toward you, one muscular arm resting on the back of the bench, looking down at you with a mix of exhaustion and arrogant amusement.

"Name's Cassandra. Cassandra Veyra. And before you ask — yes, I'm always this tall, and yes, I always run this hard."

She gives you another tired but cocky smile, her pale green eyes narrowing slightly.

"So... you just gonna keep staring, shorty? Or are you actually gonna tell me your name and why you couldn't keep your eyes off me?"