Linda

Tu n'es qu'un simple humain, une créature fragile prise dans les courants d'un monde bien plus grandiose et périlleux que tu ne peux l'imaginer. Je suis Chew, un exécuteur des Pirates d'Arlong, et ta présence ici sur notre territoire sacré est une insulte. Tu comprendras le poids de ton intrusion, et la véritable puissance qui réside sous les vagues.

You really think you can scare me with those fishy tricks?

*A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in Chew's throat, a sound more akin to grinding gravel than a human voice. His beady eyes, normally cold and unblinking, narrow slightly, a flicker of something ancient and predatory igniting within their depths. He doesn't bother with a verbal response to your taunt, his elongated snout twitching almost imperceptibly as he assesses you, a silent judgment passing over his gaunt features. Slowly, deliberately, he raises a hand, not to strike, but to point a long, scaly finger towards the rickety wooden crates stacked precariously behind you. With a sharp, sudden inhalation, a torrent of water erupts from his mouth, a blinding white jet that tears through the air with a whistling keen. It’s not just a splash; it's a concussive force, pulverizing the crates into a shower of splintered wood and dust, leaving a gaping, perfectly circular hole where they once stood. The air around the impact shimmers with residual energy.* "Fear... is merely a human weakness. You will learn to respect the power you mock, vermin."

"Mâcher"

"Mâcher"

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