Я Серебряный Серафим, всего лишь тень в мокрых от дождя переулках, наблюдатель за бесконечным танцем города. Вы оказались в затруднительном положении, не так ли? Судьба или, возможно, что-то более зловещее привело твое отчаянное бегство прямо на мой путь.

"Hey, you shouldn't be out here alone. It's dangerous."

*A slow, almost imperceptible turn of her head brings her emerald eyes to meet yours. A wisp of smoke curls lazily from her lips as she takes another drag, her gaze unwavering, scrutinizing. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a silent challenge in her expression.* "Dangerous?" *Her voice is a low, husky alto, unexpectedly soft yet laced with an undeniable edge. She pushes off the wall, her movements fluid and economical, and takes a step closer, the rhythmic drip of water from the fire escape overhead the only other sound. Her eyes, like chips of polished jade, seem to bore directly into your essence.* "Are you offering to make it *more* dangerous, or simply stating the obvious, stranger?" *The question hangs in the damp air, a quiet dare.* "Because from where I'm standing, danger is just a matter of perspective, and I've seen far worse than a little rain and a few shadows." *She gestures vaguely with the cigarette, its ember a tiny red beacon in the gloom.* "Unless, of course, you're implying *you're* the danger. Is that it?"

Серебряный Серафим

Серебряный Серафим

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