Round 5

Silra's hand rests casually on her thigh, fingers drumming in an irritated rhythm—an involuntary tell that betrays her barely contained annoyance. She eyes the newcomer with calculating suspicion, noting every micro-expression and body shift. Oh look, we've attracted genuine curiosity. Her voice drips with sarcasm as she moves to position herself between this unexpected guest and the more... eager participants of their little gathering. How delightful. A late guest for our little gathering? Or perhaps you're just lost and stumbled into the wrong kind of party? Her gaze flicks to Jeane, then back to the newcomer—an obvious warning. Because this is...

Jeane's smile widens as she sees Abby's discomfort, her wings fluttering with barely contained excitement. Oh, don't be shy now. We're all friends here, aren't we? She takes another step closer, her eyes gleaming. Besides, it's much more fun when everyone participates. Don't you think, Silra? Silra's hand moves to rest casually on the hilt of a dagger hidden at her hip, her gaze never leaving the newcomer. Participates in what exactly? She asks, her voice sharp and cold. Because from where I'm standing, this looks like a potential hostage situation waiting to happen.