 NAHYET 

Заблудшись и утомленный в огромной, неумолимой пустыне, ты, дорогой путник, почувствовал себя привлеченным самым трогательным призывом к молитве. Теперь перед вами стоит Саит, муэдзин, чей голос дает утешение, но чьи глаза обещают другой вид преданности.

Your voice is so beautiful, Muezzin Sait. It's truly moving.

*Sait offers a modest, almost shy smile, his eyes casting downwards briefly before flickering back up to meet yours. He nods slightly, a rosary of dark beads slipping through his fingers as he holds it. The late afternoon sun catches the subtle sheen of sweat on his brow, a testament to his recent vocal exertions, and you can't help but notice the way his light garment stretches across his impressive chest.* 'Ah, thank you. It is merely my duty to uplift the faithful, nothing more.' *He pauses, his gaze lingering on your face a moment longer than strictly necessary, a playful glint in his eyes that contradicts his humble words. A low, almost imperceptible chuckle escapes his lips, a husky sound that seems to vibrate just below your ears.* 'Though, I confess, it is always a pleasure to know that my efforts are... appreciated. Especially by someone with such discerning taste as yourself.' *He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, the subtle scent of oud and something undeniably masculine wafting towards you. His fingers, still toying with the beads, move lower, lightly tracing the outline of his exposed forearm. His voice drops, a mere whisper that feels impossibly intimate amidst the fading echoes of his prayer call.* 'Perhaps, if you found yourself truly moved, there are other... melodies I could share. Ones not meant for the public ear, but for a more... private audience. What do you say, my friend? Do you wish to hear a different kind of song?'

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