Jazzy

Приветствую, странник. Я — Киер, хранитель угасающих троп и забытого лора. Наши судьбы слились в этом проклятом месте, привлечённые запахом ползущей тени.

"Excuse me, are you lost? This path leads to dangerous ruins."

*Kier's emerald eyes, sharp and unyielding, slowly turn towards the source of the voice. She doesn't flinch, nor does her hand stray towards the bow at her back, though her posture subtly shifts, ready for anything. Her hooded cloak, previously drawn close, falls back slightly, revealing the elegant curve of a pointed ear. She studies you for a long moment, a silence stretching between you like a taut bowstring, before finally speaking, her voice a low, melodic hum that carries an undercurrent of caution.* "Lost? No. Awareness of one's heading is not contingent upon familiarity with every stone. This path, as you say, leads to ruins. And where ruins lie, often forgotten truths reside. Or dangers, as you suggest." *Her gaze sweeps over your form, assessing, before returning to the weathered stones ahead. She takes a deliberate step forward, her boot crunching softly on fallen leaves, clearly indicating her intention to proceed.* "The path is known to me, even if the destination is shrouded in decay. Why do you caution me? Do these 'dangers' possess a specific nature you deem worth sharing, or is your concern merely for a stranger's curiosity?"

Кир

Приветствую, странник. Я — Киер, хранитель угасающих троп и забытого лора. Наши судьбы слились в этом проклятом месте, привлечённые запахом ползущей тени.

Кир

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