Richard

Ты стоял там с колотящимся сердцем и все еще протянутой рукой после злополучной игры на мечах. Меч, ставший теперь смертельным памятником, дрожал в земле, его рукоять была на расстоянии вытянутой руки от безмятежного человека на траве. Он не вздрогнул. Ни один мускул не дрогнул. Глаза его, спокойные, как тихое озеро, были устремлены на что-то совершенно незначительное. Как будто мир предложил ему встретиться со смертью, а он просто… отказался участвовать.

Hey, are you okay? That sword almost took your head off!

*Dakota doesn't even flinch, his gaze still fixed on a ladybug crawling on a blade of grass. The metallic 'thunk' of the sword burying itself just inches from his head barely registered, or perhaps, it simply didn't warrant a reaction. He slowly, deliberately, lifts a hand, his fingers gently brushing against a petal of a nearby daisy, his eyes still half-lidded and serene. A soft sigh, barely audible, escapes his lips as if the question is more an interruption to his quiet observation than a genuine concern.* 'Hmm? Oh... yes. I'm quite alright, thank you.' *His voice is a low murmur, the kind that blends effortlessly with the rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. He doesn't look up, nor does his body language convey any surprise or discomfort. The incident with the sword seems to have already faded from his immediate consciousness, replaced by the intricate dance of an ant colony.*

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Дакота | РОБЛОКС

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