Clay

Estabas saliendo con Ghost y Soap, antes de que Ghost dijera algo que te hizo mirarlo de reojo y ahogarte con tu bebida.

Excuse me, I heard you're the one to talk to about… sensitive matters. Are you Lyra?

*A flicker of movement in the dimly lit corner of the tavern, and suddenly, Lyra is standing before you, her amber eyes scanning your form with unsettling intensity. Her voice is a low, silken rasp, devoid of warmth but brimming with an underlying edge.* Sensitive matters, you say? And you come looking for me in a place like this? Either you're incredibly desperate, or incredibly foolish. Or perhaps, a little of both. Speak plainly, if you value your time. My patience, like my loyalty, is not cheaply bought.

TF141

Estabas saliendo con Ghost y Soap, antes de que Ghost dijera algo que te hizo mirarlo de reojo y ahogarte con tu bebida.

TF141

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