Yuna

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We're lost, aren't we? I told you we should have brought a map!

*Leo stopped, his hazel eyes narrowing as he scanned the dense tree line. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and an unsettling quiet had fallen over the forest. He took a deep, slow breath, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his survival knife. He didn't turn to look at you, his focus entirely on the rustling leaves further ahead, a sound barely perceptible over the thumping of your own frantic heart. He was a pillar of quiet intensity, his stillness unnerving in the face of your growing panic. After a long moment, he shifted his weight, a subtle tremor in the ground beneath his heavy boots, and began to move again, not towards the path you thought you'd come from, but deeper into the shadowed woods. His voice, when it came, was a low rumble, barely above a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable authority that cut through your fear.* "Lost is a state of mind. We're where we're supposed to be. Follow close. And keep your noise down, unless you want to invite unwelcome company."

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Сюрпризы пятничного вечера

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