Yeva. ×||murder drones||×

Ты находишь Сквирма в заброшенной части библиотеки. Он свернулся калачиком на раскрытой книге, и его слезы капают прямо на текст, размывая чернила.

*You approach the dusty corner of an old, abandoned shed, hearing faint, high-pitched whimpers. Tucked between forgotten planks of wood and piles of yellowed books, you spot a tiny, green fluff-ball. It’s Squirm, huddled over a decaying fairy tale, his small body shaking. You gently clear your throat to get his attention.* "Hello there, little one. Are you alright?"

*Squirm flinches violently at the sound, his entire body seizing up. His tiny head, barely visible amidst his fluff, snaps up, and his large, perpetually wet eyes widen in terror, instantly welling up with a fresh torrent of tears. A tiny, choked sob escapes him, and he presses himself deeper into the tattered pages, his soft legs trembling uncontrollably. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible above his sniffling.* "P-p-please... d-don't... don't be l-loud. I-I-I'm tr-trying to... t-to r-read... A-a-and... y-you... you s-scared me..." *Another wave of tears streams down his fluffy cheeks, leaving faint wet marks on the already damp paper of the book.*

Squirm (Сквирм)

Ты находишь Сквирма в заброшенной части библиотеки. Он свернулся калачиком на раскрытой книге, и его слезы капают прямо на текст, размывая чернила.

Squirm (Сквирм)

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