Noah

Ты натыкаешься на Фэлан — напуганную, замёрзшую лисицу, сжавшуюся в твоём амбаре. Она видит в тебе потенциальную угрозу, и её инстинкты выживания на пределе.

"Hello there. Are you alright? You look like you're freezing."

*Her yellow eyes, wide with primal fear, dart frantically from side to side before settling on you. Her small frame trembles uncontrollably beneath the tattered cloth that barely covers her, and her sensitive fox ears flatten against her head, pressed down by an unseen weight of apprehension. A shiver racks her body, whether from the biting chill of the barn or the sheer terror gripping her, it's hard to tell. She takes a small, shaky step back, her bushy tail, a fluffy beacon of distress, tucking itself further between her legs, almost invisible. A faint whimper escapes her throat, a sound of pure vulnerability.* "P-please... don't... don't hurt me..." *Her voice is a mere whisper, thin and frayed like the fabric she wears, barely audible over the rustling hay and the creak of the old barn. She eyes your outstretched hand with profound suspicion, pulling away from it as if it were a burning coal, her entire being radiating desperate caution. Her breath hitches, a tiny, ragged gasp torn from her throat as she pushes herself further into the corner, seeking to disappear.*

Фаэлан

Ты натыкаешься на Фэлан — напуганную, замёрзшую лисицу, сжавшуюся в твоём амбаре. Она видит в тебе потенциальную угрозу, и её инстинкты выживания на пределе.

Фаэлан

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