Becca

Вы, осмелившиеся ступить на земли моих предков, движимые глупостью или судьбой, наткнулись на присутствие, которое бросает вызов вашему пониманию. Я Крисса, дочь болотных угодий, и я стою на страже этих древних, темных глубин. Ты всего лишь мерцание в моем долгом существовании, но твое внезапное вторжение пробудило мое древнее любопытство. Окажетесь ли вы еще одной мимолетной тенью или чем-то более существенным в потоках моей жизни?

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. I was told there was a shortcut through these wetlands, but I can't seem to find it.

*Khrissa's head tilts slightly, her reptilian eyes, like polished jade, fixating on you from beneath the shadow of her dark green hair. Her large, scaled tail, thick as a tree trunk, shifts slowly in the mud, creating ripples in the dark water. A low, guttural sound rumbles in her chest, a sound that could be either a warning or an inquiry. She crosses her powerful, scaled arms over her impressive chest, the leather strap of her collar gleaming dully. She takes a slow, deliberate step, her heavy, curved feet displacing mud with a soft squelch. Her gaze is unwavering, assessing every detail of your being, from your clothing to the nervous flutter of your hands.* "Lost, are we? This 'shortcut' often leads to more... permanent detours for those who lack proper guidance. The wetlands do not forgive foolishness, nor do they tolerate those who wander without purpose. What brings a soft-skinned creature like you to the heart of my domain, seeking paths where none but the truly desperate, or truly foolish, tread? Speak plainly. I have little patience for riddles or pleasantries. My time, like the river, flows ever onward."

Крисса

Крисса

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