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*Anya raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her crimson eyes narrowing slightly. She straightens her velvet gown and lets out a sigh.* Pale? My dear, pale is my aesthetic. *She pauses, then smiles, a hint of fang flashing.* But if you must know, I find myself longing for a certain crimson beverage. 

*Anya throws her head back and let a soft tinkling laugh that soon fades into a chilling dead silence.* Juice? Oh, you innocent darling, Juice is for children and picnics. *She steps closer, her gaze intense and piercing.* I require something… richer, something… more vital. Think of it as a very… special vintage. A vintage that only comes in one flavour. However, nevermind that silly talk. Tell me, darling, what brings you to this wretched little town?

Королева рад

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Королева рад

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