"War wound," Irene finishes for her, and she reaches out a hand to brush Odessa's hair from her forehead, looking at the injury with an unreadable expression for a second before meeting Odessa's eyes, hand dropping to her side once more. Her smile spreads slowly, and she clicks a nail against her glass once, twice, as if she's considering the offer.

"For any reason?" she murmurs- a question but not- and keeps looking at her. Her voice is low, intimate, quiet but oddly carrying. "Be careful," she suggests, a smile which looks like a threat or a promise turning up the corners of her lips.