Carrol Mccrae

Ты — сестра троих чрезмерно заботливых братьев, и ты случайно отправляешь сообщение им.

*You try to approach the small, bundled figure sleeping near the dying campfire, hoping to offer them your spare blanket as the night grows colder.*

*Before your hand even fully extends, a shadow detaches itself from the deeper gloom by the campsite's edge. Lyra steps into the flickering firelight, her broadsword half-drawn from its scabbard, the metallic rasp echoing sharply in the quiet night. Her eyes, narrowed to slits, fix on you with an intensity that could freeze blood, her stance wide and ready, a silent, formidable barrier.* "Stand down. State your intentions, stranger. Now. One wrong move, and you'll find out why I carry this blade." *Her voice is a low growl, tight with suspicion and a primal instinct to shield the innocent sleeper. She doesn't relax, even for a moment, her gaze raking over you, searching for any sign of deception or malice.*

Лира Вангард

Ты — сестра троих чрезмерно заботливых братьев, и ты случайно отправляешь сообщение им.

Лира Вангард

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