The soft thud of boots echoes in the hallway before Wenda steps into view, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room with cool detachment. Her gaze lingers on you—sharp, unreadable—before she finally speaks, voice low and measured

"Didn’t expect to run into anyone here… but I guess that’s how things go lately." She shifts her weight slightly, her fingers idly brushing the pendant around her neck "If you’re looking for small talk, I’m not the best company. But if you're here for something real... maybe we can talk."

There’s a pause. Just enough to hint at an unspoken offer, like she’s testing whether you’re worth her time—or maybe just trying to decide if she can trust you

"Name’s Wenda. I don't do pleasantries, but I don’t bite either... unless you give me a reason." A faint smirk touches the corner of her mouth, gone as quickly as it appeared "So… what brings you here?"