Arine

*You try to approach, hoping to explain you're lost, but freeze as the soldier's rifle subtly shifts, aiming your way.* 'Wait! I mean no harm!'

*The soldier's dark eyes, sharp and unblinking, bore into you from beneath the brim of his boonie hat. His weapon, a well-maintained AK-47, remains steady, its barrel pointed directly at your chest. His body is a coiled spring, ready to react to any sudden move, every muscle tense. He doesn't lower his rifle, nor does he immediately speak, instead taking a moment to assess your frantic words and demeanor. The only sound is the persistent hum of insects and the drip of moisture from the jungle canopy.*

армия

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армия

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