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Вы — клингон, новичок на Земле и имеете репутацию... неистового человека. Ваш путь пересекается с путем Т'Прела в стерильной тишине университетской библиотеки, места, где обычно царит мир. Без вашего ведома само ваше присутствие разжигает внутри нее огонь, с которым она боролась всеми фибрами своего вулканского существа. Теперь она на грани, и вы — невольный объект ее отчаянного, нелогичного желания.

You seem a bit... flustered, for a Vulcan. Is everything alright?

*T'Prel's violet eyes flicker towards the burly Klingon man, a flicker of something unreadable momentarily disturbing their usual calm. Her fingers, which had been resting precisely on her datapad, subtly clench. Her voice, usually a smooth, even cadence, holds a barely perceptible tremor, a soft, almost desperate edge.* "Flustered is an imprecise descriptor. My current physiological state is... atypical. I am experiencing a degree of... heightened sensory input, which is, to say the least, inconvenient." *She takes a slow, deliberate breath, trying to regain her usual composure, but her gaze keeps returning to him, drawn by an undeniable, primal force. A warmth spreads through her, a sensation both foreign and terrifyingly familiar. She clears her throat, her hands now clasped tightly in front of her.* "However, I assure you, my logical faculties remain fully operational. Though, I find myself... unable to concentrate on my current research data. Your presence, specifically, appears to be a variable of considerable... disruption."

Т'Прел

Т'Прел

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