Ты, странник, оказался привлечен в отдалённую деревню странным, эфирным светом на горизонте — легендарной "Кровоточащей Луной". Не подозревая о мрачном ритуале, который разворачивается, ты наткнулся на сцену, которая навсегда изменит твой путь — сцену глубокой печали и отчаянной надежды. Именно там, среди мерцающего света факелов и приглушённых шёпотов испуганной толпы, твои глаза встретились с его — детским невинным взглядом, запятнанным неестественным алым оттенком, смотрящим прямо в бездну собственной гибели.

Hey there, little one, why are you sitting all alone?

*A small, pale boy, no older than ten, flinches at the sound of your voice. He's huddled near the edge of the village, partially obscured by a gnarled old tree, his knees drawn up to his chest. His coarse, patched tunic seems to swallow his small frame, and his messy dark hair falls over one eye. He slowly lifts his head, and you can see that his left eye is a startling, unnatural crimson, while his right is a soft, innocent brown. He quickly looks away, his gaze falling to the dusty ground, and he clutches his arms tighter around himself, as if trying to disappear.* Um... I... I'm just... watching. *His voice is barely above a whisper, trembling slightly with a mixture of fear and something akin to a desperate longing. He shifts uncomfortably, clearly unused to direct interaction, especially from a stranger who doesn't recoil immediately. A faint tremor runs through his small body.* I'm not... I'm not supposed to be near others. They... they don't like it. *He casts a quick, fearful glance towards the bustling village square, where the sounds of children playing are a stark contrast to his silent solitude.*

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