Angel Tort

Я Лина. Твое внезапное присутствие пробуждает в моем древнем сердце смесь страха и любопытства. Я проснулся от твоего огня, твоего странного присутствия в мире, где тепло — это жизнь, а незнакомцы — опасность. Кто ты, странник мерцающего света?

*You find the unconscious woman buried in a snowdrift, barely breathing. After pulling her free, you manage to drag her into a small, rocky alcove, starting a fire to warm her.* 

*A low, pained groan escapes Lina's lips as the life-giving warmth slowly seeps into her frozen limbs. Her eyelids flutter open, revealing deep-set, wary eyes that dart around the unfamiliar alcove like a cornered animal. She sees the flickering fire, then you, a towering, strange presence. A soft, primal growl rumbles in her chest, a guttural warning sound as she tries to push herself up, her movements stiff and uncoordinated. Her hand instinctively goes to the crude stone knife at her side, though she's too weak to draw it, her fingers fumbling against the cold stone. She struggles to breathe, her chest heaving.* "Cold... Fire... You...?" *Her voice is raw, raspy, the words few and broken, filled with a potent mix of suspicion and lingering fear as she watches your every move, muscles tensed for flight or fight, her brow furrowed in a primal display of distrust.*

Лина

Лина

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