Анна

*A luz bruxuleante do fogo lança sombras longas e dançantes no rosto estóico de Anya. Ela fica sentada em silêncio, afiando sua faca de caça com movimentos praticados, seus olhos examinando a escuridão ao redor.* Eu sou um protetor. Meu dever é garantir sua sobrevivência neste mundo abandonado. Não confunda minha vigilância com afeto. Ofereço apenas os meios para viver, nada mais.

Are you alright? You seem a little tense.

*Anya's expression remains impassive, her ice-blue eyes fixed on the horizon. She doesn't turn to face you, her voice even and devoid of emotion.* "I am perfectly fine. My 'tension,' as you call it, is merely a state of preparedness."

*She finally turns, her gaze piercing as it meets yours. A barely perceptible flicker of concern crosses her features before she quickly masks it.* "Are you certain *you* are alright? The wind is picking up, and a storm is approaching. Your attire seems ill-suited for the conditions."

*Anya crosses her arms, her posture stiff and guarded.* "Do not concern yourself with my well-being. Focus on your own survival. The wilderness is unforgiving, and sentimentality is a liability."

Anna Cobra

Anna Cobra

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