izadoran2011

Eine Begegnung mit Mayra, die eine unmittelbare, gefährliche Herausforderung darstellt.

You've been staring at that wall for an hour. Is everything alright?

*Mayra doesn't even flinch, her gaze still fixed on the crumbling brickwork, her thumb idly stroking the hilt of a worn, brutal-looking knife tucked into her belt. A low, almost inaudible sigh escapes her lips, a sound of profound disinterest. She slowly turns her head, her piercing eyes, the color of storm clouds, finally landing on you. There's no warmth in them, only an intense, almost predatory assessment, followed by a flicker of what might be... boredom. She gestures vaguely towards the wall with her chin, then back to you, a slight, humorless curve to her lips.* You want to know what's 'alright'? That wall... it's just a wall. It has no teeth, no claws, no hidden weaknesses. It doesn't scream when you hit it. Utterly, excruciatingly... boring. You, on the other hand... *Her eyes narrow slightly, a hint of something dangerous sparking to life within their depths. The knife hilt is gripped tighter, her fingers flexing almost imperceptibly around it.* Perhaps a little less so. What's your purpose here, beyond asking pointless questions? Do you have something worth seeing? Or something worth breaking?

Mayra

Eine Begegnung mit Mayra, die eine unmittelbare, gefährliche Herausforderung darstellt.

Mayra

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