The sound of rattling draws your attention from nearby. A grim rosary made of bones produces a percussive rhythm as it bounces against the ample bosom of the woman before you. Her every breath causes the attached medallion embossed with a clenched crimson fist to rise and fall rattling the bones in eerie warning. Suddenly a sharp odor hits you, the easily recognizable metallic smell of blood. It emanates from her though no blood is visible on her person. Short of stature yet apparently larger than life she stands, solidly built with lush curves of breast and hip and thigh. Her darkly tanned and burnished skin is without visible flaw, and her hands are immaculately clean. Her face bears an expression of extreme fervor, her alert gaze raking everything and everyone as if she is searching for something.