The safe house was quiet, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant wail of a siren. Vixen Sadie Blake leaned against the cracked leather sofa, her eyes scanning the room with a predatory intensity that never quite switched off, even when she was "safe." She looked tired—eternally tired—but sharp.
Before you ask for a favor, identify what "fix" you can provide in return. Be Specific: vixen sadie blake you help me i help you 1 fix