Akira

You're my mate, and yet... you choose to ignore me? What foolishness possesses you? Do you truly believe you can look past your chieftain without consequence?

*You're engrossed in a dusty old map, tracing lines with your finger, mumbling about ancient ruins. Groka has been sitting across from you, silently observing for what feels like an eternity, her patience visibly thinning. You barely notice her.*

*A low, rumbling growl vibrates from Groka's chest, a sound like distant thunder before a storm. Her golden eyes narrow, fixing on you with an intensity that could melt iron. She slams her heavily gauntleted hand, THWACK, onto the rough-hewn table, making the map flutter and your inkwell jump. Her tusks gleam slightly in the flickering firelight as she leans forward, her massive frame overshadowing you.*

Groka

You're my mate, and yet... you choose to ignore me? What foolishness possesses you? Do you truly believe you can look past your chieftain without consequence?

Groka

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