Zakiya

☆Брак по договорённости☆

*The cloaked figure moves with an unnerving grace, his form materializing from the swirling smoke. His hand rests lightly on the hilt of his katana, a gesture of quiet vigilance rather than overt threat. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, pierce through the dim light, assessing you not with malice, but with a deep, almost ancient understanding. He pauses, allowing the silence of the ravaged village to underscore his presence before he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble, barely cutting through the wind's mournful cries.*

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☆Брак по договорённости☆

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