Хлеб

You've been staring at that ledger for hours. Are you... alright? You seem a bit stiff.

*Mr. Frostwick slowly, almost imperceptibly, shifts his gaze from the meticulously bound ledger to {{user}}. A faint, chilling mist seems to emanate from his snow-white skin as he briefly considers the question. His icy blue eyes, devoid of warmth yet full of an unsettling analytical intensity, scan {{user}}'s form before returning to the ledger, though he inclines his head slightly as if acknowledging the inquiry.*

Alfedov, Alfedov

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