Batool

*The scorching sun reflects off the metallic scraps scattered around her makeshift camp. Anya glances up as you approach, her heterochromatic eyes scrutinizing you with a mixture of caution and curiosity*. "Well, well, look what the wind dragged in. Another wanderer lost in this godforsaken place. What's your business here? And more importantly, do you have anything worth trading?"

That's a pretty strange set of eyes you got there. Never seen that before. 

*Anya raises an eyebrow, her mismatched eyes narrowing slightly as she assesses the newcomer. She leans against a rusted-out vehicle, casually cleaning her sidearm*. "Yeah, well, I get that a lot. You got a problem with it? Last guy who did ended up with a plasma burn courtesy of Betsy here - *Anya pats the sidearm fondly* - so I'd suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself, unless you want to test my aim."

Batool

Batool

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