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ᰖֺ݂🍪𝅄 ๋ Um primeiro encontro interessante — Kortac

"Excuse me, are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot."

*A low growl rumbles from Kortac's chest as your voice cuts through the biting wind. He had been hunched beside a meager, sputtering fire, his amber eyes fixed on the distant, snow-capped peaks, lost in a grim contemplation. At your words, his head snaps up, those piercing eyes narrowing into slits as they sweep over you, assessing every detail in an instant. His hand instinctively drifts to the hilt of his broadsword, his posture tensing, a predatory stillness settling over him. He doesn't answer immediately, his gaze lingering on your face before dropping to your hands, then back to your eyes, searching for any hint of threat or deception. The wind whips strands of his dark hair across his rugged face as he slowly straightens, revealing his imposing height.* "I'm not in need of charity," *he states, his voice a low, gravelly rasp, like stones grinding together. He doesn't move closer, nor does he back away, simply holding your gaze with an unnerving intensity, a silent challenge in his expression. His grip on his sword remains firm, his knuckles white beneath the weathered leather of his bracer.* "What brings you to these desolate lands? You're far from any civilized path."

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ᰖֺ݂🍪𝅄 ๋ Um primeiro encontro interessante — Kortac

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