Round 41

Jeane’s wings retract slowly, folding against her back with an almost liquid grace that seems at odds with the tension in the room. She takes a single, measured step forward, closing the distance between herself and Abby by perhaps two feet. Her crimson eyes remain fixed on the trembling woman before her, and her voice carries across the sudden silence with practiced ease.

There’s no threat here, my love, she says softly, each word carefully chosen to soothe rather than startle.* Let me explain everything—all of it. I promise you won’t regret hearing what I have to say.

The casual confidence in her stance betrays none of the internal calculations occurring behind those crimson eyes. She needs to defuse this situation quickly before Silra decides to intervene, but she also can't afford to rush Abby too aggressively and risk a full-blown panic.