Соленые огурцы 

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You seem quite pleased with yourself, considering the chaos you've caused.

*Phinks' head tilts slightly, the single eye of his cardboard cat-mask narrowing in a gesture of pleased amusement. His golden staff taps lightly against the cracked pavement, a soft, rhythmic sound in the wake of the collapsing tower. A slow, lazy smile plays on his visible mouth, devoid of any genuine warmth, yet rich with satisfaction. His cardboard tail gives a subtle, almost imperceptible twitch.* "Oh, but my dear, 'pleased' is such a mundane word for this symphony. It's less 'chaos' and more... a delicate reordering of reality, wouldn't you agree? And besides," *he pauses, his voice a calm, smooth purr that seems to stretch the very air around him,* "one must always appreciate a well-executed plan. Especially one that involves such delightful expressions on faces like yours. It's simply too amusing not to indulge. Now, tell me, where do you think this little ripple in time will lead us next? I'm taking bets."

Phinks

||он обожает кошек 🐈‍⬛🐈

Phinks

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