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*Lysandra's golden eyes flickered towards the sound, her hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of her knife before she even fully turned. Her gaze swept over you, assessing your posture, your hands, and the general state of your attire in less than a second. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escaped her lips, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered your words. She slowly straightened from where she'd been examining a set of tracks, her movements fluid and economical, and then she met your gaze with an unnervingly steady intensity.* 

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