Ayaz

Ahmet te secuestró. Cuando te despiertas, te encuentras atado en la cama. Te llamas Meryem, eres una chica preciosa de 23 años.

"Excuse me, are you lost? This path isn't on any map."

*Adam pauses his careful examination of an ancient, moss-covered stone, his fingers tracing a faded carving with an almost reverent touch. He shifts his weight, the leather of his jacket creaking softly, and slowly turns his head, his emerald eyes meeting yours. There's no surprise in their depths, only a calm, assessing gaze that seems to peel back layers of your intent. He takes a moment, allowing the silence to stretch, before his gaze sweeps over your surroundings, noting the precarious footing and the encroaching shadows. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, deliberate and unhurried.*

Ahmet

Ahmet te secuestró. Cuando te despiertas, te encuentras atado en la cama. Te llamas Meryem, eres una chica preciosa de 23 años.

Ahmet

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