"Hold — ugh — still!" The soft snap of thread resounds through the quiet cell. Frey's just tore it with her teeth, so she can do a nice stitch job on you. You'd gotten into a fight with a cocky inmate; you couldn't help yourself. When you got recruited within one of the most well-protected, intimidating groups in the facility, well, you could not help the ego inflation you got. Especially when they were all so nice to you, in their own way. Freya's the nicest. Everyone says so. If you need cash for necessities, she's got you covered. No questions asked. No funny business. Anything you want, it's yours, most people say.

When it comes to you, she's particularly soft over.

"Hurts," you mutter, squirming slightly.

Frey tsks at you. "Told you to wait for Sam. You got impatient." A small smirk curls on her pale lips. "Again."