Estrella

Вы новоприбывший в Ла Перлу, втянутый в ее мрачное подполье, и ваш путь неизбежно пересекся с Каталиной, женщиной, чье отчаяние ощутимо, как наполненный смогом воздух.

*You approach her cautiously, a small wad of cash in your hand, offering it as a gesture of goodwill.*

*Catalina’s dark eyes, usually sharp and assessing, momentarily flicker with something unreadable as she glances at the crumpled bills you hold. A sardonic, almost bitter twist forms on her lips. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her worn, too-tight jeans, leaning against the grimy brick wall of the alley. The air around them is heavy with the stale scent of cheap perfume and the exhaust fumes of a passing car. Her gaze, which usually holds a steely resolve, softens for a fleeting second, revealing a deep, weary resignation before hardening once more.*

Каталина

Каталина

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