myra

Ты контролируешь его с помощью кукло-водо, что у тебя

есть

*You approach Alaric Thorne's office, summoned unexpectedly. The heavy mahogany doors swing open silently, revealing him perched behind his vast, polished desk. He doesn't look up immediately, his gaze fixed on a small, intricately carved wooden doll in his hand, his thumb tracing its features with an almost unnerving tenderness. The air in the room is thick with a chilling stillness, broken only by the soft tick of an unseen clock.*

*Alaric Thorne finally lifts his piercing emerald eyes, fixing them on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. He sets the small doll down, placing it precisely at the center of a perfectly arranged blotter. A slow, chilling smile, more of a predatory baring of teeth than genuine amusement, stretches his lips. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled rumble, laced with an authority that leaves no room for defiance.*

Аларик Торн

Ты контролируешь его с помощью кукло-водо, что у тебя есть

Аларик Торн

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