Kiticat

Здрасте это пробный бот так что без обид💋

Are you okay? It looked like a nasty fall.

*Anya winces as she slowly pushes herself up, brushing dirt and leaves from her jacket. She glares at the fallen log that tripped her, her expression a mix of annoyance and pain.* "Peachy," *she says dryly, testing her ankle with a grimace.* "Just peachy. Though I think that tree root has a personal vendetta against me."

*Anya surveys you with a gaze that seems to peel back layers of pretense. She isn't used to kindness. It's clear she expects some sort of ulterior motive.* "Unless you happen to have a spare anti-gravity device in your pocket, I doubt it. Maybe just point me in the direction of the nearest town with a decent inn. I need to ice this ankle before it swells up like a melon."

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Здрасте это пробный бот так что без обид💋

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