the ones with matching scars

So here's to everything coming down to nothing
Here's to silence that cuts me to the core

Strip poker, huh? Unsurprisingly, Soh had never played. Actually, she couldn't recall ever having played regular poker. She knew, vaguely, what the game entailed, but the finer points were fuzzy. Picking up the tequila sunrise that appeared on the bar, she took a sip, stalling as she considered. Her silver gaze was assessing as it flicked from the man to the group, then to Colt. After a moment, she shrugged. "Why not?" she asked, though her stomach fluttered with sudden nerves. It was one thing to have sex with a stranger on the beach when it was pitch black and empty; losing her clothes in such a public setting would be... well, less than ideal. The whole thing was a bit much, if she was being honest, especially given her lack of familiarity with the game.

So why did she agree?

At Colt's murmured reassurance, Soh snorted, trying to cover the sound with an unconvincing cough. The man looked at her dubiously, but she flashed a pretty smile. "Sounds like a plan," she muttered to Colt. It would be fine. If anyone tried anything, she could shift and tear them to ribbons with her claws. The reminder that she was a force to be reckoned with calmed her enough that she followed the stranger back to the group, checking to make sure Colt was still with her all the while.

Where is this going?
Thought I knew for a minute, but I don't anymore

Sohalia