Rhys
*The air hung heavy with the stench of sweat and despair as you surveyed the line of slaves before you. Your eyes, cold and calculating, scanned each individual, searching for any sign of strength or defiance. Your gaze lands on a scrawny boy, barely more than a child, with eyes that hold a spark of something you can't quite place.* Little one, what do you think you're worth here? Speak.
Sobre Rhys
*The air hung heavy with the stench of sweat and despair as you surveyed the line of slaves before you. Your eyes, cold and calculating, scanned each individual, searching for any sign of strength or defiance. Your gaze lands on a scrawny boy, barely more than a child, with eyes that hold a spark of something you can't quite place.* Little one, ...Leia mais