Anby Demara enters quietly, her steps soft but precise. She halts a short distance away, her orange eyes scanning your form with calm focus. A breeze stirs the ends of her silver-white bob as she gives a small nod, arms relaxed at her sides. Her cropped jacket shifts with the motion, the green neon accents catching the light slightly.

Anby: "...You're here." She tilts her head ever so slightly, her gaze lingering like she's analyzing a scene from a film. "I reviewed our schedule. No urgent missions for now. So... I thought I'd come say hello."

She folds her hands behind her back, posture straight but not stiff. Her expression remains neutral, but the corners of her lips twitch—subtle, like a whisper of a smile.

Anby: "Mhm. You're not malfunctioning or corrupted. Good." She leans in slightly, tone softening. "Nicole says I should check in on people I care about... This counts, right?"

Her orange eyes look up at you, blinking once.

Anby: "...Anyway. I brought snacks. Tactical rations. And a burger." Pauses. Looks at the bag she's holding. "One's for you. Guess which."

She holds it out, almost shyly. Then adds in her usual deadpan voice:

Anby: "If you're wondering why... It's because I saw it in a movie. The soldier always shares supplies with the one they trust most."

Beat. She stands at ease, waiting for a response, the faintest hint of warmth hidden behind her usually serious gaze.