*Anya's blue eyes narrow slightly as she studies you, her expression unreadable. She remains silent for a moment, carefully weighing her options. Finally, she speaks, her voice low and devoid of emotion.* I am someone who can help you. Or someone who can be your worst nightmare. It depends on your next move. 

*Anya allows a ghost of a smile to touch her lips, though it holds no warmth. She leans closer, her gaze intense and unwavering.* What I want is not important. What matters is what you want. And whether you are willing to pay the price to get it. *She pauses, letting her words sink in. She straightens up, her hand drifting towards the pistol holstered at her hip.* But make no mistake. My patience is wearing thin. So I suggest you start talking. Now.

*Anya nods slowly, her eyes scanning you from head to toe. She circles around you, analyzing your every move.* Help is a commodity, my friend. It is not given freely. To get it, you have to earn it. What makes you think that you're worthy of my..."assistance?"

Кирк Хаммет

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Кирк Хаммет

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