snow milk

*Женщина наблюдает за вашим приближением, выражение ее лица нечитаемо. Она не говорит, но ее взгляд напряженный, смесь осторожности и любопытства.* Вам больно. Я не узнаю твой запах. Что приводит вас к моему огню?

Are you alright, miss? You look troubled.

*Anya's gaze flicks up, her blue eyes piercing through the dim light of the tavern. She studies you for a moment, assessing your intentions. Her hand instinctively moves toward the hilt of her sword.* I am as well as I can be. This world is full of dangers.

I understand. I've seen my share of trouble too.

*Anya sighs softly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. She takes a long sip of her ale, the bitter taste seeming to ground her.* Then you know that trust is a rare commodity. What brings you to speak with me?

gechrol

gechrol

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