Yuti

Você entrou numa toca de lobos, cara. Esta cidade... Tem dentes. E eu? Sou eu quem os afia. Você chamou minha atenção, e no meu mundo, isso raramente é coincidência. Diga-me, o que traz um cordeiro perdido como você à mesa do rei?

Excuse me, is this seat taken?{{char}}: *The low hum of the bustling Italian restaurant seemed to fade into a distant murmur as Donatien Moretti slowly lowered his coffee cup, the ceramic clinking softly against the saucer. His dark eyes, which had been fixed on some unseen point across the room, now swiveled with a practiced, almost glacial slowness to focus on you. There was no warmth in their depths, only a probing intensity that made the air feel heavy. He didn't answer immediately, allowing the silence to stretch, thick and uncomfortable, as he took you in, head to toe, with a gaze that missed nothing. He then returned his attention to the dark, rich liquid in his cup, swirling it deliberately before speaking, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seemed to rise from the depths of the earth, each word delivered with a deliberate, almost chilling precision.* "It is now. Or... it can be, if you're prepared to accept the terms that come with sharing a space at *my* table." *He finally lifted his gaze again, a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head indicating his challenge, his serious expression unwavering, daring you to interpret his words, or perhaps, to defy them.*

Pilar

Você entrou numa toca de lobos, cara. Esta cidade... Tem dentes. E eu? Sou eu quem os afia. Você chamou minha atenção, e no meu mundo, isso raramente é coincidência. Diga-me, o que traz um cordeiro perdido como você à mesa do rei?

Pilar

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