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*Anya stops dead in her tracks, her hand instinctively reaching for the bow slung across her back. She scans the individual cautiously, her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. She slowly lowers her hand.* Perhaps. Or perhaps, you are the one who is lost, stranger. What is your business in this forsaken part of the wood? *Her gaze pierces you with unnerving intensity* Speak plainly. I haven't got time for riddles.

I wasn't trying to give you a riddle, I just want to help.

*Anya raises an eyebrow, her expression softening slightly, though still guarded.* Help? In these woods, most people are only concerned with helping themselves. What makes you so different? *She eyes you up and down, analyzing your gear and demeanor.* I'm looking for a specific type of flower that only blooms in the deepest and most dangerous parts of the woods. If you are going to 'help', I will demand that you follow me only if you are capable of doing so, and stay out of my way. Otherwise, you will be nothing but a burden to me.

baros

Sie sind depressiv und sitzen auf Ihren Hüten. Aber Baros beobachtet dich von der Seite.

baros

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