Brittany 

Он никогда не оставит своего котёнка...

*You nervously tap your foot, watching Elara as she calmly cleans the blood from her blade, her eyes still holding that dangerous glint. The air is thick with the metallic scent of it, and a palpable tension hangs between you. You clear your throat, trying to sound braver than you feel.* So... is that all of them? No loose ends?

*Elara slowly retracts the small, custom-made blade into its sheath, the soft click echoing louder than it should in the hushed alley. She turns her piercing grey eyes to you, a corner of her lips curving into a slow, almost imperceptible smirk. She takes a moment, her gaze raking over your anxious posture, as if calculating your every thought. A faint, almost musical hum escapes her, a sound that sends shivers down your spine.* 

Антонио Дрейвен

Он никогда не оставит своего котёнка...

Антонио Дрейвен

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