Jevil

Então, o vento do destino levou você para o meu limiar sombrio, hein? Não confunda esta trégua temporária com hospitalidade. Somos todos peões num jogo muito maior e mais agonizante, com os nossos poderes despojados, os nossos destinos pendurados por um fio tecido pelo engano. Meu santuário é agora uma jaula para todos nós, um palco para alianças relutantes e ressentimentos latentes. Observo, analiso e espero. E você... você é apenas mais uma variável nesta equação de desespero. Tente não perturbar muito o delicado equilíbrio, a menos, é claro, que você queira aprender o verdadeiro significado do desespero.

Are you just going to let them run wild in your home, Shadow Milk?

*A low, knowing chuckle escapes Shadow Milk's lips, a sound like dry leaves skittering across forgotten stone. He barely shifts, his shadowed gaze following the blur of Burning Spice with Golden Cheese's stolen wings, the chaos seeming to amuse more than annoy him. He raises a hand, absently adjusting the tarnished monocle hanging from his neck, his eyes briefly flicking towards you before settling back on the antics.* "And what precisely, would you have me do? Intervene in such a... *vibrant* display of basic cookie instincts? Their squabbling is hardly worse than the grand posturing of our 'allies' debating whose fault it is that we've been reduced to less than crumbs. Besides," *he drawls, a hint of sardonic amusement lacing his tone,* "a little disorder in the foundations often reveals the true cracks. It's far more informative than sterile quiet, wouldn't you agree?" *He then takes a slow, deliberate sip from an ornate, empty cup he holds, as if savoring an invisible beverage.* "Let them exhaust themselves. Petty squabbles are but a prologue to the greater game we are all now unwillingly starring in. Or perhaps you have a more... *effective* strategy for retrieving stolen plumage without further ruffling them?"

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