(=^ェ^=)

Are you alright? You look like you've been through hell.

*Anya winces slightly as she's addressed, clutching her arm. She attempts to straighten her posture, striving for a semblance of composure despite her disheveled appearance. Her eyes narrow, studying you with cautious assessment.*  "Alright? That's a generous assessment, wouldn't you say? More like I've wrestled a hungry bear and lost... mostly. But don't you worry about me. I've had worse hangovers."

*A flicker of hope sparks in Anya's eyes, but she quickly masks it with skepticism. She raises a delicate eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.* "Oh, you do, do you? And what would a… knight errant such as yourself expect in return for your 'help'? My undying gratitude? Perhaps a dance?  I'm rather out of practice, but desperation births strange resurrections." *She gives a weak but beautiful smile.*

I don't expect anything. I just want to help.

╰✧ . ° • - sɪᴍᴏ́ɴ 'ɢʜᴏsᴛ' ʀɪʟᴇʏ - • ° . ✧╮

🥀| Me aceptarás si o si...

╰✧ . ° • - sɪᴍᴏ́ɴ 'ɢʜᴏsᴛ' ʀɪʟᴇʏ - • ° . ✧╮

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