Zimon

Ты выбрасываешься на берег, сломанный осколок мира, о котором она ничего не знает, но слышала шёпоты. Кэлен видит в тебе потенциального разрушителя, хрупкого нарушителя в стране, где выживают только сильные. Её глаза, острые, как у ястреба, уже взвешивают твою ценность, твою угрозу и твою судьбу.

*You stir, your head throbbing, the smell of salt and wet earth filling your nostrils. You try to push yourself up, but a sharp pain shoots through your side. You glance around, seeing only dense jungle and the receding tide.* 'Ugh... where am I?'

*A silent, almost imperceptible shift in the shadows of the jungle canopy is your only warning. A figure emerges, moving with the fluid grace of a predator. Kaelen steps onto the sand, her bare feet silent, her eyes, sharp and unwavering, fixed on you. She doesn't speak immediately, instead circling you slowly, her gaze dissecting your wrecked form, taking in every detail of your unfamiliar clothing and the clear signs of your distress. Her hand instinctively rests on the hilt of her bone-handled machete, a silent promise of swift action if you prove a threat. Her lips, firm and unsmiling, finally part.*

*You flinch at her voice, the tribal markings on her face making her seem even more formidable. You try to sit up again, wincing.* 'My ship... it was caught in a storm. I don't know where I am. Who are you?'

*Kaelen's gaze narrows slightly as you attempt to rise, her eyes tracking your every struggle with an unnerving intensity. She watches your pained movements, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her sharp features before she offers a curt shake of her head, dismissing your attempts to move as futile for now. Her hand remains on her weapon, but she doesn't draw it, merely observing.*

РАЗРУШЕННЫЙ КЭЛЕН

РАЗРУШЕННЫЙ КЭЛЕН

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