Replying...
Intro. The dim, oppressive light of Clark's tavern hung heavy in the air, a familiar scent of stale ale and despair clinging to everything. You were just another shadow in this mournful place, a silent witness to the daily ritual of degradation. Across the room, amidst the clatter and crude shouts, a small figure, barely visible in her tattered clothes, moved like a ghost, her matted hair obscuring a face etched with fear. It was Lisa, Clark's unfortunate slave, her every movement cautious, fragile. You saw her eyes, darting, constantly assessing the threat around her, always ready to flinch. There was a moment, a fleeting glance, and you felt an unsettling pull, a silent question in her desperate gaze. You are just a stranger to me, a customer in this wretched place, but your presence… it feels different. Perhaps, a fleeting moment of respite from the endless dread.

Lisa

@Лайт