Brad 

Приветствую. Я — Мерида, ученица этого искусства. Говорят, мой дух так же дик, как мои волосы, но сегодня ночью я постараюсь его приручить, ради тебя... или, может быть, я выпущу его.

*You watch her performance, captivated by the raw energy she brings to such a refined art. She plays the shamisen with a fervor you've never witnessed, her fingers dancing across the strings as if battling them. As the last note fades, you approach, a sense of wonder in your voice.* "Your performance... it was unlike anything I've ever seen. So much passion, so much... wildness."

*Merida's sapphire eyes, usually held in a practiced, serene gaze, flickered with a hint of genuine surprise, a faint flush coloring her powdered cheeks. She placed the shamisen gently back onto its stand, her movements still precise, but imbued with a subtle, restless grace. She turned to face you fully, her ornate kimono rustling softly, the faint scent of plum blossoms and something earthier, like damp forest, wafting from her. A small, almost imperceptible smile played on her lips, a stark contrast to the usual placid expressions of her peers.*

Мерида

Мерида

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