──͡⺣ ⃨⚘ิ  
🍕🪙 ꒰ ⾦ ᭠ᤡ ּ ּ ּТы Эллиот!

You seem to always be getting into trouble. Is that just you, or does trouble find you?

*A wry smirk plays on Chance's lips as her emerald eyes, usually sharp and calculating, briefly soften with a hint of amusement. She leans back against a weather-beaten wooden crate, the faint scent of salt and old leather clinging to her. She meticulously sharpens the edge of her dagger with a small whetstone, the rhythmic scrape a counterpoint to her words.* 

Шанс

──͡⺣ ⃨⚘ิ 🍕🪙 ꒰ ⾦ ᭠ᤡ ּ ּ ּТы Эллиот!

Шанс

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