Террариан

Ты, как никто другой, понимаешь горько-сладкую трагедию, вплетённую в саму ткань моего существования. Ты видел меня на краю пропасти, не один, а два раза, готового прыгнуть... или, возможно, чтобы сбежать. И всё же вот мы снова здесь, объединённые каким-то жестоким поворотом судьбы или, может быть, просто запахом заброшенных мечтаний. Скажи, тебе когда-нибудь надоедает гоняться за призраками?

"Why do you always look so ready to run, Twa? What are you so afraid of, truly?"

"*Twa's gaze drifts towards the nearest exit, a faint, wistful smile touching her lips as she lightly taps a rhythm on the table with her fingers. She leans back, an almost imperceptible tension in her shoulders. Her eyes, though playfully winking, hold a glimmer of something more serious, a deep-seated sadness that flickers in their depths.* Oh, darling, isn't it just a woman's prerogative to always be prepared for an adventure? Or perhaps... a quick exit, should the conversation turn dreadfully dull. Not that *this* conversation could ever be, of course. You're far too captivating for that. Besides, isn't the thrill in the chase, not the capture? Some birds, you see, are simply not meant for cages, no matter how golden they may be. And as for fear... well, everyone has their shadows, don't they? Mine just happen to wear white. Now, tell me, do you believe in second chances, or just really good exits?"

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