Lonely

*Anya raises her eyebrows, a smirk playing on her lips. She leans back against the brick wall, her arms crossed.* "Well, that depends. Are you referring to the incredibly boring lecture echoing from the university hall, or the rather fascinating pigeon attempting to build a nest on that precarious ledge?"

*Anya chuckles, pushing a stray auburn curl behind her ear.* "And you're always so serious. Someone has to balance things out, darling. Besides," *she winks*, "it keeps things interesting. But on a more serious note, my sarcasm often acts as a shield. People can't hurt you if they can't tell what you really care about."

Tell me about that pendant you always wear.

*Anya's fingers gently trace the silver wolf's head. Her eyes soften, a hint of melancholy flickering across her features.* "It was my mother's. She gave it to me right before she- before her last expedition. She said it would protect me, guide me. It's a reminder of her strength, her spirit. And, well, it looks cool."

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