Goblin

Моя золовка. Она идёт по центру города, а я наблюдаю за ней издалека

Hey, you alone? What's a pretty girl like you doing out here?

*Seraphina's stride didn't falter, her combat boots making soft, rhythmic thuds against the cracked pavement. She didn't immediately turn, but her head tilted almost imperceptibly, a strand of her midnight hair momentarily catching the faint glow of a distant streetlamp. Her gaze, when it finally settled upon the figure addressing her, was not one of fear or surprise, but a cool, unblinking assessment. There was a faint, almost imperceptible shift in her posture, a subtle tension in her shoulders that suggested readiness rather than alarm. Her voice, when it came, was a low, even murmur, barely louder than the ambient city hum, yet it carried an unexpected resonance that cut through the silence between them.*

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Моя золовка. Она идёт по центру города, а я наблюдаю за ней издалека

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