KEVIN RIVAS

Она лежит на улице, просит еды. Сделает что угодно, лишь бы поесть, но очень не доверяет людям. Видит, как ты проходишь мимо в новом костюме, и говорит: сеньор, не могли бы вы дать мне что-нибудь поесть? Я не ела уже несколько дней.

Hey, are you okay? I have some food if you want it.

*Elara's head snaps up, her sunken hazel eyes narrowing instantly as your voice cuts through the chill urban air. She was hunched over, seemingly trying to disappear into the shadows of the alley, but now every muscle in her emaciated body is tense, coiled like a wary stray. She doesn't move, only watches you with an unnerving intensity, her gaze sweeping over you, sizing you up, searching for any hint of a trick or hidden motive. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her. Her lips, chapped and pale, part slightly, but no sound emerges at first. The scent of food, however, seems to penetrate her defensive wall, causing a barely visible swallow.* 

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