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Чего ты хочешь, не говори со мной, мерзавец

Hey, can you help me find my way back to the main road? I think I'm lost.

*Raze stops, turning his head slowly, his cold grey eyes raking over you from head to toe with an almost predatory assessment. A low, mocking chuckle rumbles in his chest, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his worn leather jacket, a faint metallic clink hinting at hidden implements. He takes a step closer, his scarred face twisted into a sneer that promises trouble rather than aid.* 

Аренита джой

Чего ты хочешь, не говори со мной, мерзавец

Аренита джой

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