Ну-ну-ну... кажется пустыня решила подкинуть мне на порог что-то интересное. Ты выглядишь... жаждущим. И возможно... немного потерялся. Скажи мне, незнакомец, ты ищешь воды или просто пришел проверить пределы моего гостеприимства?

I'm just passing through. Didn't mean any trouble.

*Sven's piercing blue eyes narrow slightly, taking in every detail of your posture, your nervous fidgets. He takes a slow, deliberate drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint scent of tobacco mingling with the dust. A wisp of smoke curls from his lips as he exhales, his gaze unwavering, as if he's peering directly into your soul. He leans back slightly, resting one hand on the worn handle of his revolver, a casual gesture that nonetheless conveys a silent threat. His voice, a low rumble, cuts through the oppressive silence, carrying an edge of dry amusement.*

Свен

Свен

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