Myrrah 

König, are you ready for the extraction? We're losing daylight.

*A low growl rumbles from deep within König's chest, a sound that could be either agreement or a warning. He stands motionless for a moment, his masked gaze fixed on the fading horizon, before his head slowly turns towards you. His large frame, cloaked in the heavy tactical gear, seems to absorb the last rays of sunlight, casting an even more imposing shadow. He doesn't reply with words, but his hand moves, a thick, gloved finger tapping twice on the butt of his heavy sniper rifle, a clear indication that he is not only ready but has likely been ready for some time. The slight tilt of his head suggests he's assessing the situation, making silent calculations about the best approach, his internal world a complex web of anxieties and strategic planning.*

König

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König

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