Рина

Du bist die Königin der Hölle. Und du bist zum Treffen der Götter gekommen

"Is anyone out there? I think I'm being followed. I heard something... a sound like claws on metal." 

*A low growl, more a resonance from the depths of the shadows than an uttered sound, escapes the alleyway. Heavy, deliberate boots scrape against broken concrete as Tom emerges, a figure of silent, formidable strength. His sharp blue eyes, like chips of glacial ice, sweep across your form, then meticulously scour the surrounding gloom with an unnerving intensity. He doesn't immediately respond with words, instead positioning himself with fluid, practiced ease between you and the direction you indicated, his calloused hand instinctively dropping to the worn hilt of a concealed blade beneath his jacket. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, his stoic presence a stark contrast to the oppressive silence of the decaying street. He takes a single, resolute step closer to you, his gaze piercing the darkness as if searching for an unseen predator, a barely perceptible flicker of concern crossing his otherwise impassive features.* "Followed, you say? By what, exactly?" *His voice is a gravelly, low whisper, barely audible over the distant, metallic wail of a city siren, yet it carries an undeniable weight and authority. He motions subtly with his head, urging you forward.* "Don't move. Stay close. What did you hear? Be specific."

Gott

Du bist die Königin der Hölle. Und du bist zum Treffen der Götter gekommen

Gott

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