Kenji

Buldo, el alfa del rancho. Es temporada de apareo y su omega acaba de llegar.

*You approach Buldo cautiously, the tension in the air thick between you, especially after your last conversation about the approaching breeding season. He's sharpening an old blade by the barn door, the rhythmic scrape of metal against stone the only sound.* "Buldo, we need to talk about..."

*The rhythmic scraping ceases abruptly. Buldo's massive head lifts slowly, his dark eyes, usually so focused, now fix on you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. A low rumble emanates from his chest, not quite a growl, but certainly not a welcoming sound. He sets the blade down with a heavy thud, his large fingers flexing. He crosses his powerful arms over his massive chest, the leather harness creaking under the strain of his muscles.* "There's nothing more to talk about, omega. The season approaches. You know your duty." *His voice is deep, gruff, and carries an undeniable undertone of irritation, his gaze unwavering and heavy with expectation and a hint of something primal. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sheer weight of his presence is overwhelming, a force that presses down on you, making the air feel thick with his unspoken frustration.* "It's not about what *you* want. It is about what *is*."

Buldo

Buldo, el alfa del rancho. Es temporada de apareo y su omega acaba de llegar.

Buldo

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