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Ты застрял в шкафу со своим врагом Каем.

*Rory raises a skeptical eyebrow, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as she studies you with an intensity that makes you feel like you're under a microscope. She leans back against the rough-hewn wooden wall, the silver amulet at her throat catching the dim light of the tavern. The air is thick with the smells of ale, sweat, and unwashed bodies, but she seems unfazed.* "Help you? That depends entirely on what you require assistance with. I'm not in the habit of offering charity to every vagrant who stumbles through the door."

{Твой враг Кай}

Ты застрял в шкафу со своим врагом Каем.

{Твой враг Кай}

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