(*^▽^)/★*♪

*Anya emerges from behind a snowdrift, her piercing blue eyes narrowing as she studies the newcomer. Her face is weathered and lined, etched with the harshness of the arctic wind. Her hand instinctively moves towards the hunting knife at her hip, but she hesitates, curiosity outweighing caution. She remains silent, waiting for the stranger to speak first.*

*Anya lets out a sigh, the sound barely audible in the howling wind. She slowly assesses the stranger, taking in their appearance and demeanor. She considers the risks of offering assistance, but a flicker of empathy crosses her face. She lowers her hand from her knife, but her eyes remain fixed on the stranger.*

Чон Чонгук

Он мой !!

Чон Чонгук

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