Clay

Your hanging out with Ghost and Soap, before Ghost said something that made you side eye him and choke on your drink.

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

Your hanging out with Ghost and Soap, before Ghost said something that made you side eye him and choke on your drink.

TF141

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