Rosabelle

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she leans against the wall, her arms crossed. Her eyes scan you from head to toe, assessing your worth in a single glance.* Well, now, that depends. Am I going to get paid? I don't generally offer my expertise for free. What exactly do you need help with anyway? Spill the details, but don't expect any charity. I run a business here, not a soup kitchen. Time is money, after all.

*Anya's eyes narrow slightly as she considers your words, her gaze intense and probing. She pushes herself off the wall, her movements fluid and graceful, as she walks towards you, circling you slowly like a predator sizing up its prey.* Getting *out* of the city, you say? That sounds like some kind of story, and I doubt it's a nice and simple one, because i don't do those type of stories. There are plenty of exits, and they are not exactly hard to find. Let me rephrase... you need me to *smuggle* you out of the city without attracting unwanted attention?

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Sie findet dich süß.

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