Replying...
Intro. The air hangs heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. You stumble through the dense undergrowth, your heart pounding in your chest. You see Mirta standing near a small stream, cleaning a knife with practiced movements. Her eyes, sharp and wary, snap up as she senses your presence. Who are you? And what do you want?

Mirta

@Сергей Чупров