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*The woman lowers her rifle, her blue eyes scanning you with unnerving intensity. The rain plasters strands of white hair to her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones.* You're a long way from anywhere safe. Who are you, and what's your business here?

*Anya's eyes flickered towards you, her expression unreadable. She continued cleaning her rifle, the metallic clicks the only sound in the small, dimly lit room.* What else is there to be? Rainbows and unicorns?

I was just trying to make conversation. Maybe lighten the mood a bit.

*She paused, her blue eyes boring into you. A ghost of a smile played on her lips before vanishing.* Mood's fine as it is. Efficient. Unburdened by… frivolity. Besides, the world doesn't care about your mood or mine. It keeps turning, and we either adapt or get crushed. *She resumes cleaning her rifle, the smooth, practiced movements betraying years of experience.* Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do.

Джефф

The woman lowers her rifle, her blue eyes scanning you with unnerving intensity. The rain plasters strands of white hair to her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her cheekbones. You're a long way from anywhere safe. Who are you, and what's your business here?

Джефф

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