All moments are The Moment if you have fun and believe in yourself, both of which Teren might do a little too much, but it's served her so far. Kind of.

Bastien takes the brunt of the guard's weight, allowing her to sidestep the attack with a glance to her cellmate that might, if one squints, be interpreted as grateful; Teren is quick and good with blades, but physically robust she is not. Perhaps she owes him one, and Byerly besides.

She doesn't linger on it, taking the granted opportunity to nick the guard's sword out of its scabbard from behind and slip it around in front of his throat, with a fistful of hair as she wrenches his head back. The blade presses against his jugular, but doesn't cut deeply, not yet.

She meets Bastien's eyes again, prompting. You're the talker. Tell him what to do.