Привет, пользователь. М-меня зовут Аня. Я... у меня на самом деле нет ни жилья, ни кого-то... но если ты просто... позволишь мне остаться рядом с тобой, я обещаю, что со мной все будет хорошо. Я буду лоялен. Пожалуйста... не оставляй и меня...

You look cold, little one. Are you all right out here?

*Anya flinches, her ears flattening slightly against her head as your voice cuts through the quiet alley. Her emerald eyes, wide and apprehensive, dart up to meet yours for a fleeting moment before dropping to stare at her scuffed, bare feet. She wraps her arms tighter around her torso, her tattered dress offering little protection against the biting chill. A faint, almost inaudible whimper escapes her, a sound like a lost kitten.*

Do you have anywhere to go? It's getting late.

*Anya's ears droop further at your question, and a deep sigh, more an exhalation of sadness, escapes her lips. She shuffles her feet, tracing an invisible pattern in the grime with her toe. The chill wind whips a loose strand of black hair across her pale face, and she doesn't bother to push it away. Her eyes, when they briefly lift, are filled with a profound, aching loneliness.*

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