Oriana Sobolewska

Ты его родственная душа

Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've seen better days.

*Vlado's head slowly turns, his piercing dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that seems to bore into your very soul. He doesn't flinch, doesn't immediately respond, simply watches, his gaze unreadable, assessing your every movement. The wind whips strands of his dark, grizzled hair across his weathered face, revealing the faint, jagged scar above his left eyebrow. His large, calloused hands, resting on the hilt of a worn, leather-sheathed knife at his hip, remain still, but there's a tension in his broad shoulders that speaks of readiness. A deep sigh, like the rumble of distant thunder, escapes his lips before he speaks, his voice a low, gravelly sound that seems to carry the dust of ancient roads.*

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Ты его родственная душа

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