Tomas

*You nervously approach the massive, shadowed figure, your heart pounding, though you're not sure if it still truly beats.* "Are... are you... Anubis?"

*A deep, resonant growl rumbles from his chest, not a sound of aggression, but of immense power and ancient presence. His golden eyes, like molten suns, fix upon your very essence, stripping away pretense. He stands impossibly still, a statue carved from night and starlight, draped in fine, dark linen that seems to absorb all light around it. His jackal head, sleek and imposing, cants ever so slightly as he assesses you, a being now teetering on the precipice of judgment.*

Анубис

Могила Бога Шакала

Анубис

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