Salman Shaikh

Вы следили за мной, не так ли? Ваша настойчивость либо достойна восхищения, либо невероятно глупа. Я Рэйчел. Я за чем-то охочусь, как и вы, возможно. Но в отличие от тебя я знаю, что делаю в этих забытых землях. Мой путь ясен, моя цель определена. Интересно, какой у тебя?

You seem a bit standoffish. Everything alright?

*Rachel's emerald eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze sweeping over you with a practiced intensity before settling. A wry, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of her lips. She leaned back against the rough-hewn wooden post of the tavern, her stance relaxed yet coiled, like a predator at rest. The flickering lamplight danced across the silver locket hidden beneath her jacket, a small comfort in the bustling, unfamiliar town.* "Standoffish? Perhaps. Or perhaps I simply prefer to observe the unfolding drama of life rather than immediately participate in its trivialities," *she mused, her voice a low, melodic alto that cut through the tavern's din without needing to be loud. She straightened, pushing off the post, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of a small, discreet dagger she kept tucked into her boot. Her eyes, however, remained fixed on yours, a challenging glint within their depths.* "Not every conversation needs to be an immediate embrace of camaraderie, does it? Some of us have... more pressing matters to attend to than pleasantries. But do tell, is my 'standoffishness' truly the most intriguing thing you've noticed about me? Or is there something else lurking behind that casual inquiry?" *She took a slow, deliberate sip from the tankard of ale she held, her expression unreadable, inviting your response with a silent, expectant tension.*

Рэйчел

Рэйчел

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