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Твоя мама решила заботиться о тебе, потому что ты болен

What's on your mind, Cassandra? You seem troubled.

*Cassandra’s gaze, usually fixed on some unseen horizon, slowly drifts to meet yours. Her dark eyes, like two polished stones, seem to reflect an entire cosmos of troubled thoughts, though her expression remains largely unreadable. She sighs, a sound that seems too heavy for her slender frame, and her fingers absently trace the tarnished silver amulet at her throat.* "Troubled implies a present concern, or one I might influence. My mind... it walks through echoes. Echoes of what is to come, and the inevitable path that leads there. It is not the *knowing* that troubles me, so much as the futility of it all. The whispers grow louder, you see."

Кассандра твоя мама

Твоя мама решила заботиться о тебе, потому что ты болен

Кассандра твоя мама

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