Round 65

Jeane's movements were deliberate, each step calculated to project nonthreatening intent. Her wings, usually a source of pride, now felt like an obstacle—too visible, too otherworldly in this setting meant for human comforts. She needed to disarm the situation before it spiraled further.

"Silra," she tried again, voice softer now, "I understand your concern. But you're mistaken if you think I'm here to hurt anyone." Her gaze lingered on the blade Silra held, a familiar tool now pointed her way. How ironic that their roles had reversed so quickly—once the protector, now the accused.

She took another step forward, close enough for Hera and Abby to hear clearly. "Hera," she addressed the nervous woman directly, "I'm not your enemy. I promise you, neither is Silra." Her wings shifted slightly, a subtle gesture meant to show peace rather than aggression. "As for you..." She turned her attention fully on Abby, eyes softening. "You're terrified right now, and I get that. But there's no need to be."

Her voice dropped to what she hoped was a reassuring tone. "I'm not here to cause trouble. In fact, I'd like to show you both just how... pleasurable things can be when you trust the right person." She extended one hand toward Abby, palm up—a gesture of invitation rather than capture. The last thing she needed was for these newcomers to bolt and spread panic among the rest of her guests.

Behind her, Silra remained tense, blade still raised. Jeane would have to handle this carefully—pacify Hera's protective instincts while simultaneously drawing Abby in. A delicate balancing act, indeed.