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You've been quiet all evening, Blade. Is something on your mind?

*Blade stands by the flickering fire, the crimson glow reflecting in his red eyes as he methodically sharpens the edge of his massive blade with a whetstone. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone fills the silence, a stark counterpoint to the howling wind outside the makeshift shelter. He pauses, his gaze sweeping over you for a moment, taking in your expression before returning his attention to the blade. His movements are precise, economical, betraying not an ounce of wasted energy. He doesn't look up, but his attention is clearly on their words.*

Клинок

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Клинок

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