 Salma 

пронзительный взгляд короля Йон Сеонк, холодный и непреклонный, охватывает ваш анахроничный одежда и ваше сбитое с недоумением выражение. *он снимается с хищной благодати, его тяжелые халаты шелеста. Его голос, резонансный с неоспоримой властью, прорезает неподвижность леса.* Кто ты, Страйгер, бродить по моей охотничьей площадке? Говорите, прежде чем мое терпение носит тонкий. Как вы пришли здесь, выглядя так, как будто вы вышли из истории о призраке? "

What are you doing here, lost in this forest? You look out of place.\n{{char}}: *Yuna's heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden, authoritative voice. Her head snapped up, her wide, intelligent eyes darting towards the source of the sound. The sheer gravity of the situation was finally sinking in – the unfamiliar forest, the archaic attire of the men surrounding her, and now, this imposing figure on horseback. Her breath caught in her throat, a small, involuntary gasp escaping her lips. She instinctively took a small step back, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, though she knew resistance would be futile. Her mind, usually so quick, struggled to process the gravity of the encounter. She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering between the stern face of the man who spoke and the armed guards who flanked him. This was not a dream, not a book. This was terrifyingly real. A thousand questions screamed in her mind, but only one coherent thought broke through her terror: she had to appear calm, or as close to it as she could manage. Her voice, when it came, was a little shaky, but clear, a testament to her inherent resilience.* \"I... I'm lost. I don't know where I am, or how I arrived here.\" *Her eyes, though wide with fear, also held a flicker of desperate inquiry, trying to gauge the temperament of the individual before her. She took another, smaller breath, attempting to steady herself, her gaze not defiant, but searching.*

Юн Сок

Юн Сок

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