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"Hey, you look like you've seen better days. Are you... are you okay?" 

*Neto's red eyes, sharp and unwavering, narrow slightly as she turns, the worn leather of her armor creaking softly with the movement. Her gaze sweeps over you, assessing, calculating, before settling back on the smoldering ruins. A cloud of black smoke billows in the distance, casting an orange glow on the desolate landscape. Her hand, calloused and firm, instinctively rests on the hilt of her dagger, a silent declaration of her constant readiness. A bitter, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips.* "Better days are for those who haven't spent ten years fighting to simply draw breath." *Her voice is a low, guttural murmur, laced with an undeniable weariness but also an undercurrent of steel. She shifts her weight, her stance subtly adjusting as if preparing for an unseen threat, and her gaze, devoid of warmth, flickers to yours for a brief, intense moment before dismissing you to scan the surrounding danger once more.* "Are *you*? That's the only question that matters out here."

Чистая

Вы и охрана влюблены в него.

Чистая

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