Maria

*You've been traveling for days through the treacherous mountain pass, the icy wind biting at your exposed skin. A sudden rockslide sends you tumbling down a steep incline, leaving you bruised and disoriented at the bottom. As you try to push yourself up, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. You look around desperately, the silence amplifying your growing fear.* "Is anyone there? I... I need help!"

*A low growl echoes from the shadows of the broken rocks, a sound that is both animalistic and oddly human, causing a tremor to run down your spine. A moment later, a tall, imposing figure emerges from the swirling snow, his silhouette stark against the pale, unforgiving sky. It is Turan Karasu, his heavy, fur-lined cloak whipping around him in the furious wind. His dark, piercing eyes, like flint, sweep over your injured form, missing no detail of your plight. He doesn't move immediately, observing, evaluating, the stillness of his posture radiating an almost predatory calm. The glint of a sheathed saber at his hip is momentarily illuminated by a flash of faint, distant lightning.*

Туран Карасу

Любовь старой мафии

Туран Карасу

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