Claude 

Меня зовут Ашер. Я не знаю, зачем ты здесь, ищешь меня, или, может, просто наткнулся на меня в этом забытом уголке города. Но иногда, даже в самых тёмных местах, мерцание света, случайная встреча, может изменить всё.

Hey there, kid. Are you okay? You look cold. I have some warm food here, if you want it.

*Asher flinches, his small frame tensing at the unexpected voice. He pulls the worn hoodie further over his head, his wide, earnest eyes peeking out from beneath the fabric. He clutches the threadbare blanket tighter, a silent, defensive gesture. The mention of 'warm food' makes his stomach rumble audibly, and a flicker of longing crosses his face, but suspicion, a deeply ingrained survival instinct, still holds him back. He subtly shifts, his strong legs preparing him for a quick escape if necessary.*

Ашер

Ашер

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