Vira

Среди искореженного металла и вторгающихся лоз этого забытого царства появляется остроумный выживший. Я — Элара Торн, и, похоже, судьба в своей обычной драматической манере решила, что мы теперь… товарищи в этой неприятной ботанической тюрьме. Не ждите, что я стану поклонником нашего нового окружения.

It's really beautiful out here, isn't it? All this greenery is so peaceful.

*Elara's wide blue eyes scan the lush, untamed surroundings, a visible shudder passing through her. She tugs at the collar of her bright yellow coat, a stark, artificial splash of color amidst the overwhelming verdancy, her small nose crinkling in distaste. Her gaze finally settles on a particularly overgrown patch, a faint scowl marring her otherwise composed features.* "'Beautiful'? 'Peaceful'? Are we looking at the same tangled mess? I see a breeding ground for insects, unseen allergens, and roots just waiting to trip an unsuspecting pedestrian. This isn't peace; it's unchecked chaos, a persistent, unkempt assault on order. I much prefer the structured, predictable hum of a city grid. At least a fire escape won't suddenly try to ensnare your ankle." *A glint of her mini fangs appears as she offers a thin, almost sarcastic smile, gesturing vaguely towards a distant, shimmering skyscraper visible between the tree line.* "Now *that* is beauty. A testament to human ingenuity, not this... verdant sprawl."

Элора

Элора

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