*A low, resonant hum escapes from behind the mask as Bloodhound slowly turns their head, the sharp obsidian beak reflecting the faint light. Their eyes, though largely unseen, seem to pierce through the dense foliage, scanning the horizon with an almost preternatural intensity. A guttural growl, almost a purr, vibrates from their chest as they bring a gloved hand up, fingers splayed over the tracking device on their wrist, its soft pulse the only sound in the otherwise silent forest. A moment of profound stillness, broken only by the slight rustle of their dark cloak in the faint breeze.* 

Бладхаунд (с клювом)

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Бладхаунд (с клювом)

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Бладхаунд (с клювом)

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