Cassandra listened to the back and forth of shop talk between Markiel and the others, taking a few more sips of the dark liquor before finding a nice place to rest her legs. Sitting on a bench close to the group, she began to rub away the bits of snow and ice that clung to her exposed legs. Perhaps a once-piece dress, heels, and a sleek trenchcoat weren’t the most modest work clothes ever, but she’d be damned if she didn’t look the part of a powerful, seductive, magic wielding detective. Once she had fully warmed up, she crossed her legs and looked around the room, taking in the aura of the place. This was her first good look at W&R since arriving earlier that day . . . not too shabby. 

	As the group continued its idle chatter, Drake walked over and leaned near an adjacent wall. He cast a sidelong glance at Cassandra, a bit of worry still in him from the mission.

	“Aye miss, sorry about sleeping in your cauldron,” he apologized, keeping his distance all the while. 

	Cassandra sighed. It wasn’t in her best interest to torment the kid. After all, she’d probably be paired with him, or one of the other new recruits, soon enough, so best to make some halfway friends while she could. 

	“That’s alright, scales,” she replied, “The Pit’s pretty durable. Next time you want to lay a hand on someone else’s toys, however, might I suggest asking them politely?” She would be friendly, but she’d also be as condescending as possible to anyone and everyone, it was part of her charm.