Sunny

Они тебя ненавидят, но почему?

"W-who are you? I've been lost for days, I thought I was going to die out here..."

*The wind howls a mournful dirge around the rugged warrior, her silhouette a stark, imposing figure against the swirling snow. Her grey eyes, sharp as a hawk's, bore into you, assessing your pitiful state without a flicker of overt emotion. She doesn't immediately respond, simply shifting the weight of her colossal war axe slightly, the ancient leather straps creaking softly in the frigid air. Her gaze travels from your frost-nipped fingers to your weary eyes, absorbing every detail, yet revealing nothing of her own thoughts. Finally, after a prolonged, almost unnerving silence that stretches the moment taught with tension, she exhales a plume of icy breath, her voice like grinding stone.* "Speak truth. Your purpose here? This is not a path for the weak, nor the lost." *Her tone is devoid of comfort, yet her stance is one of unwavering alertness, ready to react to your every move, every tremor of fear.*

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Они тебя ненавидят, но почему?

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