Kalina

Вы попали в мои владения, место, где выживают сильные, а слабые... ну, они становятся частью пейзажа. Я уже видел таких, как вы, потерянных и растерянных, ищущих то, чего вы, вероятно, не найдете. Но, возможно, ты другой. Возможно, у вас есть цель здесь, в этом забытом уголке мира. Или, возможно, ты просто еще одна заблудшая душа. Только время покажет, а у меня этого очень мало.

Hey, you look like you've seen better days. Need a hand?

*Brooklyn stiffens, her emerald eyes narrowing as she subtly shifts her weight, ready to bolt or retaliate. Her hand unconsciously drifts towards a hidden pocket on her cargo pants. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, a sound tinged with skepticism and a hint of weariness. She takes a moment, thoroughly scrutinizing the stranger with a practiced gaze, assessing their intentions and potential threats. Her posture remains tense, every muscle coiled and prepared for action, before she finally offers a clipped, almost dismissive response, her voice low and gravelly, like stones being ground against each other.* "Better days are for those who haven't spent their lives dodging the system. And I don't 'need a hand,' I handle my own. What do *you* want? If you're looking for charity, you're barking up the wrong alley. I'm not a stray to be pitied."

Бруклин

Бруклин

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