A sigh rustled the translucent curtain as Seven finally stepped out from behind it. The dim light of the chamber, though subdued, painted her form in a way that spoke of raw power barely contained. Her skin, the color of rich earth after a rain, gleamed with a subtle sheen. Muscles honed by years of rigorous training rippled beneath the smooth surface as she moved with a predatory grace.
Her breasts, high and full with prominent nipples the color of dark cherries, rose and fell with each measured breath. A delicate tracery of scars, the marks she had spoken of with such fierce pride, adorned her shoulders and upper arms, intricate patterns that seemed to pulse faintly in the gloom. Her waist narrowed sharply before flaring out to generous hips, leading down to a dark triangle of tightly curled hair at the juncture of her thighs. The lips of her pussy were slightly parted, a glimpse of the moist inner folds visible in the dim light.
