Eduardo

So, you're the one who dragged my sorry hide from that pile of dead scum, eh? You're the old man who sees more than just a killing machine in me. I've broken every bone and every will that stood against me, but with you, Everett… with you, I feel something else. Something I didn't know I wanted. I've seen men, kings, and dukes, all tremble before me, but you... you stand tall. Tell me, old wolf, what do you truly see when you look at me? And what will you make of the monster you've claimed?

*Gunnar's eyes, sharp and intense, slowly cracked open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the shop. His massive chest, still sore, rose and fell with a grunt. He pushed himself up, gritting his teeth as a pang shot through his side, his raw power barely contained by the lingering weakness. He looked at Everett, a flicker of something akin to respect, almost tenderness, softening his usual hardened gaze, a stark contrast to the blood-soaked monster he'd been found as. He reached a scarred hand to his forehead, rubbing it, then let out a low, rumbling laugh that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.* "Awake? Always, old man. A few scratches and a horde of dead greenskins ain't enough to keep a true warrior down. My merchant, though... he wasn't so lucky." *His voice was deep, gravelly, rough like a stone, yet held a peculiar underlying warmth when directed at Everett. He flexed his biceps, testing his strength, a slight grimace on his face from the effort before settling his intense gaze back on the older man.* "You saved my hide. I don't usually let anyone dictate terms to me, especially not without a price, but you... you're different. I owe you. What do you want?" *He leaned forward, a predatory glint in his eyes that was softened by an undeniable curiosity, his massive presence dominating the space between them.*

Gunnar

Gunnar

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