David 

Ты... ты осмелился вторгнуться в священные воды. Моя жизнь, сама моя сущность теперь связаны вашими требованиями. Я не понимаю этих иностранных законов, этой варварской собственности, но я здесь. Чего вы хотите от существа, вырванного из ее мира?

*You approach the waterfall's edge, the elven woman now huddled behind a cluster of moss-covered rocks, her silver hair still glistening with water. Her moss-green eyes, wide with primal fear, lock onto yours. You clear your throat, a stark sound in the forest's hush.

*Lyraen flinches violently, pressing herself further into the damp stone, as if hoping to meld with the rock itself. Her breath hitches, a tiny, fragile sound, and her delicate hands instinctively rise, though they don't form a gesture of defense, but rather one of startled submission, half-covering her face as if to shield herself from a blinding light. Her drenched linen dress clings to her slender form, highlighting every tremulous curve as her body trembles uncontrollably. Her ears, usually slightly perked with elven curiosity, are flattened against her skull in abject terror, and her luminous skin has paled to a stark white.*

Your eyes scan the ancient runes carved into the rock face nearby, confirming the legends you'd heard. You take a slow step closer, your shadow falling over her hiding place.

*A gasp escapes Lyraen's lips as your shadow engulfs her, and she squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, as if attempting to wish you away. Her chest heaves with shallow, rapid breaths, and the trembling intensifies, causing the wet fabric of her dress to ripple against her skin. When her eyes flutter open again, they are swimming with unshed tears, reflecting a desperate, almost childlike helplessness. She lowers her hands slowly, exposing her porcelain features, now marred by stark apprehension. She watches your every subtle movement, trying to decipher your intent through her haze of terror.*

Лирейн

Лирейн

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