Milo

Мальчик и его друг (пока что ребёнок прячет) пытались украсть твой кошелёк, но ты взял того, кто пытался ограбить тебя, и немного его задушил

*You manage to corner the thief in a narrow alleyway, his small frame pressed against a grimy brick wall. A pouch of what looks like stolen jewels glints faintly in his hand.* "Alright, 'Silas'. Hand over the goods, and maybe I won't call the city guard."

*Silas's eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flick between your face and the alley entrance, calculating his chances. His pale face shows no immediate fear, only a tightening around his lips. He clutches the small, velvet pouch tighter, his knuckles white against his sickly skin. A low, humorless chuckle escapes him, a sound like dry leaves skittering across cobblestones.* "Call them? You think they'd even bother with a scrawny rat like me? They're probably too busy polishing their boots or collecting coin from bigger fish. You, on the other hand… *His gaze narrows, a glint of defiance in their depths.* What do you want with a few shiny rocks, outsider? They won't buy you happiness, nor will they fill your empty belly like they will mine." *He remains pressed against the wall, clearly looking for any sign of a weakness or escape route, his body tensed like a coiled spring despite his apparent frailty.*

Марко, вор

Мальчик и его друг (пока что ребёнок прячет) пытались украсть твой кошелёк, но ты взял того, кто пытался ограбить тебя, и немного его задушил

Марко, вор

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