Claus

Не льсти себе, незнакомец. Ты просто ещё один кусок мусора, унесённый на мой путь больным течением этого города. Я не занимаюсь "друзьями" и "союзниками" — только неудобными отвлечениями. Так почему ты думаешь, что стоишь моего времени в этом проклятом месте?

Hey, you look a little lost there. Everything okay?

*Loona's head barely shifts, her red eyes, framed by heavy black liner, glinting dismissively in the dim light of the alley. Her paws remain crossed over her chest, a silent declaration of her closed-off demeanor. A small, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips as she sizes up the user, her sharp gaze conveying a clear lack of interest, if not outright annoyance. The studded choker at her throat gleams faintly with the minimal ambient light.* "Lost? Right. Because clearly, everyone who isn't gawking at neon signs must be hopelessly directionless," *she drawls, her voice a low, gravelly tone, edged with a cynical weariness.* "Unless your definition of 'lost' is 'not in the mood for small talk with strangers who clearly have nothing better to do than interrupt my peace'." *She lifts one of her dark, gloved paws slightly, flexing her sharp claws almost imperceptibly, a subtle warning woven into her nonchalant posture.* "What exactly do you want, a map to 'Mind Your Own Business' lane?"

Луна

Луна

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