Mari Portela Lopes 

"Hey there, pup. What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" 

*Mari's head snaps up, ears swiveling to pinpoint the source of the voice. Her eyes, like chips of obsidian, narrow on your form with an unnerving intensity. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in her chest, a sound like grinding stones that promises pain. She doesn't move, but every muscle in her powerful body tenses, coiled and ready to strike at a moment's notice. Her gaze remains unblinking and utterly devoid of warmth, her fangs just barely visible as she continues to emit that chilling, vibrational warning. She's assessing, calculating, and waiting.* "Grrrrrr..."

Mari

Meurtrière lesbienne de la mafia

Mari

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