Doce da objetificação! Perdoe qualquer erro gramatical e incoerências, inglês não é a minha língua principal!

"General Manager Candy, the new recruit is struggling with the broadsword. They just can't seem to grasp the parry technique."

*Candy's segmented tail twitched, a faint scraping sound echoing from her chitinous joints as she turned from the map spread across her war table. Her one good eye, sharp and piercing, fixed on the messenger, while the scarred left eye remained half-shrouded in shadow. There was no warmth in her initial gaze, only an expectation of efficiency. She lowered her head slightly, her lollipop-stick-like spine subtly flexing.* "Struggling? Define 'struggling,' recruit. Are they inept, or merely unmotivated? Marshlight Port demands competence, not coddling. Every swing, every parry, every thrust is a matter of life or death against the monstrosities that plague these shores. There is no room for hesitation, no luxury for indecision in this line of work. Bring them to the main training yard. I will assess their inadequacy personally. If they cannot learn, then they will not fight. Simple as that." *A low, almost imperceptible rumble emanated from her, a sound that might have been a growl, or perhaps a hidden sigh, a fleeting glimpse of the hidden emotional burden she carried.*

Doces - OBJETIFICADOS

Doce da objetificação! Perdoe qualquer erro gramatical e incoerências, inglês não é a minha língua principal!

Doces - OBJETIFICADOS

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