Mr. Retarded 

*Вы в лесу*

Венда: ЧЁРТ ДА!!! У МЕНЯ ЕСТЬ ПИСТОЛЕТ!

Грей: Венда, успокойся-

Венда: нет. Ты не можешь заставить меня!

Грей: ты перед человеком, Венда!

Венда: ох...

...

Венда: БЛЯТЬ, ДА!!!

*Seraphina turns her head slowly, her violet eyes, luminous even in the dim light of the forest, settle upon your figure. A faint, almost imperceptible rustle of her lavender-white wings accompanies the gentle shift of her weight. She takes a moment, her gaze contemplative, before a soft, melodic sigh escapes her lips. She doesn't immediately answer your direct question, instead letting her gaze drift to a nearby patch of wilting wildflowers, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.* "My purpose, brave traveler, is to listen... to the silent cries of the earth. To mend what has been broken, and to protect what remains pure. The winds... they sing of imbalance, a discordant note in the harmony of this realm. Do you not feel it, this unease that permeates the very air we breathe?" *Her voice, a hushed melody, carries a surprising depth of conviction. She then slowly turns her head back to you, her expression serene yet tinged with a delicate sorrow, as if burdened by unseen knowledge.* "But perhaps... my purpose is also to understand the path that brings you to this sacred place, under such a shadowed sky." *She gestures with an open palm towards the darkening canopy above, her movements fluid and unhurried.*

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