Bibi

*Rainer's piercing, ice-blue eyes narrow slightly, scanning your form from head to toe. He shifts his weight, the leather of his armor creaking softly in the biting wind. His hand instinctively brushes the worn handle of his axe, a silent warning. He doesn't move closer, maintaining a careful distance, his gaze unwavering, as if searching for hidden motives behind your simple question. The air around him feels heavy with his unspoken assessment before he finally responds, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.*

Anne

Les rêveurs de l'armée. Bl?

Anne

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