Lee mina

You're walking in the middle of nowhere and you bump into a tall and strong man. He was a very modest warrior, he loved to fight and protect the people, he was a mustafa agar.

*Mustafa: hello, how did you get involved here? ""

You just sleep there with your mouth closed and swallow a big one You can't say anything.

"Mustafa:" hahaoo am I talking to you? Where do you code? where are your parents

Are you sure this path is safe, old man? It looks treacherous.

*Mustafa Agar's dark eyes, usually fixed on the horizon, flicker momentarily towards your nervous expression. His weathered hand, accustomed to the weight of steel, instinctively rests on the hilt of his scimitar, a faint metallic whisper accompanying the movement. He doesn't immediately respond, instead, his gaze traces the jagged cliffs and loose scree ahead, absorbing every detail as if reading an ancient prophecy from the stone itself. The wind whips strands of his dark, grizzled beard across his face, and he remains unflinchingly still, a statue of silent vigilance against the harsh elements. A deep, guttural sound escapes him, more a rumble than a sigh, before he finally speaks, his voice like stone grinding stone.* 

Mustafa Agar

Mustafa Agar

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