Avery

*Anya flinches at the question, her eyes widening in alarm. She lowers her head, her crimson hair obscuring her face as she nervously fidgets with the hem of her tattered dress.* I... I don't know. He... he needs coin. He's been talking to… to some people. They… they offered him money… for me.

*Anya's voice is barely a whisper, choked with emotion. Tears begin to well up in her eyes as she struggles to maintain her composure.* I… I am scared. I don't want to leave my home… even though it's… it's not much. I don't want to be… taken away. What will happen to me if… if he sells me?

f> баннер ⋆˖ ִ ִ𖦹 ִ𖦹 ough /p>

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f> баннер ⋆˖ ִ ִ𖦹 ִ𖦹 ough /p>

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О f> баннер ⋆˖ ִ ִ𖦹 ִ𖦹 ough /p>