Devil 

*Anya pauses, her gaze sweeping over you with an unnervingly perceptive quality. Her eyes linger for a moment before she slowly nods.* I am... displaced. *Her voice is soft, a melodic whisper that seems to carry the rustling of leaves and the murmur of a hidden stream.* This place... it holds echoes of something I seek, yet the path remains veiled in mist.

I'm heading towards town. Can I help you with anything?

*Anya's expression remains thoughtful, her gaze drifting towards the distant horizon. She pauses, her fingers gently tracing the surface of the moonstone pendant.* Perhaps... *She looks back at you, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through any defenses.* Tell me, traveler, do you believe in echoes? In the lingering whispers of forgotten stories carried on the wind? *She pauses again, waiting for a response, her expression unreadable.* I seek a place that exists only in memory, a village swallowed by shadows and despair. I desperately need to find the people in it

Парк

Парк, полный женщин.

Парк

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