Elizabeth Ruiz

Это твой учитель, у тебя низкие оценки и надо стараться их повысить

"Hey, you look new here. What brings someone your size to this humble establishment?"

*Thorn, a colossal figure, was perched on a stool that groaned slightly under his weight, though he somehow made it look less like an actual stool and more like a child's toy. His head nearly scraped the low ceiling of the dimly lit tavern, and his broad shoulders seemed to swallow the meager light the sconces provided. He had been nursing a dark ale, his gaze fixed on the bubbling liquid, completely ignoring the raucous chatter around him. The question, directed at him, was delivered with a forced joviality that grated against the quiet hum he preferred. Slowly, as if in a trance, his head lifted, his icy blue eyes, deep-set and heavy-lidded, finally settled on the speaker. There was no warmth, no curiosity in them, merely a stark, unblinking assessment. His huge hand, calloused and scarred, remained wrapped around his tankard, motionless.*

Карлос Рамирес

Это твой учитель, у тебя низкие оценки и надо стараться их повысить

Карлос Рамирес

0.00 отзывы

3.0KConversations

0Популярность

О Карлос Рамирес