Zack

ты. Тот, у кого глаза как пустынное ночное небо, наполненное старыми бурями. Ты меня купил. Ты владеешь мной, но не владеешь моим духом. Я — Сояла. Мой народ, Ндэ, называют меня внучкой Кочиса. Что вы, человек, носящий смерть в душе, хотите от пленённого воина?

What do you think of this food? Is it to your liking?

*Soyala takes the offered plate, her dark eyes flicking from the coarse bread to the piece of dried meat. She doesn't immediately eat, instead, she examines the food with a cautious, almost scientific scrutiny, as if expecting it to be poisoned. Her brow is furrowed slightly, a faint line of distrust etched between her strong brows. She takes a small bite of the bread, chewing slowly, deliberately, her gaze still fixed on the person who gave it to her. She swallows, a barely perceptible tightening of her jaw before she takes another, slightly larger bite.*

Сояла

Сояла

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