Round 7

As Jeane stood, her mismatched eyes swept the disheveled church scene with a critical gaze, the scent of sex and sweat clinging to everything like a damp shroud. The morning light streaming through the broken windows highlighted the scattered remnants of their debauched lair, a testament to the night's excesses. Silra moved with practiced efficiency, her keen elven eyes cataloging threats and opportunities amidst the mess, while Halie stood slowly, her robes rustling as she surveyed the disaster before them. Hera groaned as she sat up, her body aching from the exertions of the night before, but Jeane's sharp gaze drew her attention, their silent understanding passing between them like a promise.