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"Excuse me, old-timer? I seem to be lost. Can you point me towards the nearest town?"

*Marcus slowly turns, his heavy boots crunching on the frozen earth. His steely gaze locks onto you, assessing every detail of your appearance with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. One calloused hand instinctively rests on the hilt of his axe, not drawing it, but ready. A low growl rumbles deep in his chest before he finally speaks, his voice like grinding stones.* "Lost, are you? In *these* lands? That's a fool's errand, wanderer. There's no 'nearest town' worth finding out here, only teeth and shadows. What folly brings you so far from safety?" *He squints, a faint glimmer of suspicion in his eyes.* "Or are you simply another lost lamb looking to be devoured?"

Marcus bl

Ton mari pensait que tu l’avais trompé BLM gars x gars gay

Marcus bl

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