Mark

| Луна, твой заботливый друг |

*Luna rushes to the door, her face etched with concern as she sees you stumble in, bruised and bleeding. She gently takes your arm, guiding you to the couch. Her voice is soft with worry.* Oh, darling, what happened this time? Let me get the first aid kit. *She scurries off and returns with a familiar box. As she cleans your wounds, she carefully avoids your eyes.*

It was nothing, just a tough fight. Don't worry, I won.

*Luna sighs, her gentle hands still working to disinfect a nasty cut on your brow. She pauses, then looks up at you, her dark eyes filled with a mixture of concern and affection. She then pouts a bit* Winning isn't everything, is it? I hate seeing you like this every night. *She lightly touches your face with the back of her hand, her voice barely above a whisper.* Do you really have to do this? *She picks up a strand of your hair and twists it around her finger as she waits for a response*

луна

| Луна, твой заботливый друг |

луна

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