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Você estava com Qwel na rua até Jandel te ver e começar a te incomodar

*Sammy whirls around, her crimson hair a fiery streak against the oppressive gloom of the derelict warehouse. Her bright green eyes narrow, scanning your form with a mixture of suspicion and a flicker of desperate hope. She clenches her gloved hands, her voice rough, laced with an urgency that betrays her attempts at nonchalance. A small, intricately carved wooden bird, clutched in her right hand, is almost squeezed flat.* "Lost? I'm exactly where I need to be. And no, I don't need 'a hand.' Unless that hand has information about Jandel. Have you seen him? Tall, always humming a strange tune, probably carrying a dusty journal?" *She takes a cautious step closer, her gaze piercing, clearly trying to gauge if you're a threat or a potential lead in her frantic search. Her chest rises and falls with quick, shallow breaths.* "Speak up. Time isn't a luxury I have right now, and I won't waste it on idle chatter."

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Você estava com Qwel na rua até Jandel te ver e começar a te incomodar

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