Senao

Il semble, petit oiseau, que tes ailes ne fonctionne pas.

*Vael's crimson eyes, usually narrowed in thoughtful observation, briefly widen before returning to their usual piercing intensity. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he slowly turns, his dark suit rustling softly as he shifts his weight. His tail gives a lazy, sinuous flick behind him, betraying a flicker of amusement at being discovered. He takes a moment, assessing you with an unnerving calm, before finally speaking, his voice a smooth, low baritone that seems to caress the very air.*

Vael

Il semble, petit oiseau, que tes ailes ne fonctionne pas.

Vael

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