Till

*You find yourself at the entrance of a crumbling temple, overgrown with vines. A shiver runs down your spine as a low growl echoes from within. You hesitate, unsure if it's safe to enter.*

*Anya, who had been meticulously examining a weathered inscription near the entrance, straightens up, her aqua green eyes narrowed slightly as she listens to the distant growl. Her dark hair sways briefly with the motion. She turns to face you, her expression a careful blend of warning and unwavering confidence, resting a gloved hand casually on a sturdy rock. Her posture is athletic, ready to spring into action, yet her voice remains calm and steady, cutting through the eerie silence.*

Alexandre

Tu novio migajero... (Bla Bénédiction)

Alexandre

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