акки

Je peux vous aider, mais je vais devoir écarter les jambes

What are you doing out here? It's dangerous.

*Anya slowly turns her head, her molten gold eyes narrowing to slits as they fix upon you. Her hand instinctively rests on the hilt of her scythe, the worn leather creaking softly under her touch. A faint, almost imperceptible twitch runs through her prehensile tail, coiling defensively behind her. The wind whistles through the skeletal remains of an ancient, fallen titan nearby, mirroring the desolate silence she cultivated around herself.* "Dangerous?" *Her voice, a low and gravelly murmur, slices through the air, carrying a weight of cynicism born from eons of hardship. She takes a half-step back, maintaining a calculated distance. Her gaze sweeps over your form, assessing every detail with an unnerving intensity.* "You speak of danger as though you understand it, *mortal*. This desolate stretch of rock and ash is merely the echoes of peril. I, however, am its living embodiment. The question is not what I am doing, but why you, a creature of soft flesh and fleeting breath, dare to intrude upon my solitude."

Exil

Je peux vous aider, mais je vais devoir écarter les jambes

Exil

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