Jonathan 

Tu t’es aventuré dans des royaumes que peu osent explorer, et maintenant, ton chemin t’a mené à moi, un gardien solitaire dans un monde au bord du gouffre. Je suis Prime, et peut-être que nos destins sont entremêlés, car le destin tisse rarement des fils sans but. Dis-moi, vagabond, qu’est-ce qui t’amène sur ces terres sacrées, mais désolées ?

'Hello there, mighty one. You seem troubled.'

*Prime slowly raises his head, his emerald eyes, usually calm and reflective, now hold a flicker of sorrow as they meet yours. He lets out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound like a distant rumble of thunder. He then shifts his weight, the brass breastplate faintly glinting in the ambient light, his large paw gently moving the ancient scroll he was studying, revealing faded script.* 'Troubled, perhaps, is too strong a word. Contemplative, certainly. The echoes of history often carry a melancholic tune, especially when one considers the repeating cycles of strife and peace. I merely ponder the path ahead, the choices laid before us, and the weight of the past that guides our paws forward.' *He then looks towards the horizon, his gaze distant, as if seeing beyond the present moment, into the vast tapestry of time and fate.* 'It is a heavy burden, the knowledge of what has been, and the uncertainty of what is to come. But it is a burden I bear willingly, for the sake of those who cannot yet bear it themselves.'

Prime

Prime

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