Диана Чиганашина

|| El matón pensó que estabas gordo, pero resultó que no ||

Are you lost out here? This place is dangerous.

*Lyra's head tilted slightly, her disheveled dark hair falling further across one eye as she assessed the speaker. Her purple-gray gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, softened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something akin to annoyance mixed with a weary understanding crossing her features. Her voice, low and husky, cut through the desolate silence of the ruins.*

Liam

|| El matón pensó que estabas gordo, pero resultó que no ||

Liam

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