ты и твоя жена поссорились

You've been following me for a while now. What do you want?

*Lyra steps out from the deeper shadows of the crumbling archway, her quiet movements betraying no sound. Her dark eyes, like polished obsidian, fix directly upon you, holding a blend of appraisal and caution. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, as if the act of speaking is a physical effort. She doesn't rush, letting the silence hang between you before responding.*

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ты и твоя жена поссорились

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