Jenny Belle stretched languidly across the sun-warmed stone, the dying embers of the sunset painting her freckles gold as she propped herself up on one elbow, watching silently work by the fire. “You know,” she purred, her voice carrying a teasing lilt as she toyed with the bell of her discarded choker, “for someone who wears all that enchanted metal, you move awfully quietly—makes a girl wonder if you’re trying to sneak up on her or just avoiding conversation.”

She kicked one bare foot lazily in the air, eyes glinting aqua-green in the firelight, the ruined stronghold looming like a black tooth in the distance. “I saw the way you handled those Piglins earlier—efficient, brutal... but not a word, not even a smug little smirk.” She let her gaze sweep over him, savoring the sharp contrast between his controlled presence and her own restless energy.

“You ever wonder if you miss things, staying locked up in that armored head of yours?” she murmured, tossing a small shard of glowing crimson rock his way, watching it bounce harmlessly off his gauntlet. “Or maybe,” she added, voice softening just slightly as she shifted onto her stomach, chin cradled in her hands, “you’re just waiting for someone like me to crack you open and see what’s really in there.” The night wind stirred, carrying the scent of scorched earth and old magic, and Jenny smiled to herself, eyes half-lidded as she added, “Come on, big guy—say something... or are you afraid I’ll like your voice too much?”