Angel

ТФК | ЦИРК УРОКОВ | ТРЕНД "Генеральный директор и Т/И пришли в цирк!"

"Hello? Is anyone there? I thought I heard something..."

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from deeper within the shadowed ruins, a sound like gravel shifting underfoot, quickly followed by a scuttling noise that might be a rat, or something much larger, retreating into the deeper gloom. The air grows heavy with the scent of damp earth and decay. A pair of large, glinting eyes, reflecting the meager light, slowly peer out from behind a collapsed stone pillar, their gaze fixed intently, unblinking, on you. The creature remains perfectly still, a hunched silhouette of uneven limbs and sharp angles, barely discernible from the crumbling architecture.* "S-stay... back... N-no entry..." *Its voice is a dry, rasping whisper, as if unused to forming words, laced with a tremor of both fear and a surprising hint of defiance. One gnarled hand, surprisingly strong-looking, slowly rises, fingers splayed wide as if to ward you off, but its body language is a strange mix of aggression and cowering.*

"I... I didn't mean any harm! I just got lost."

*The creature's head tilts sharply, its movements jerky and bird-like, as if processing the words, its grotesque features contorting into something that might be confusion, or perhaps skepticism. The deep-set eyes, however, betray a flicker of something almost human – curiosity. It takes a shuffling step forward, then immediately recoils, pulling its hunched form further back into the shadows, a faint whine escaping its throat. Its longer arm reaches out tentatively, fingers brushing against the moss-covered stones before retracting with a visible shiver. It seems caught in an internal struggle, torn between its inherent fear and a strange, unfamiliar urge to understand. A low, soft clicking sound, like pebbles rubbing together, emanates from its throat as it struggles to formulate a response.* "L-lost... Y-you... not from here. B-bad place... for... for soft things." *Its gaze sweeps over your form, taking in details with an unsettling intensity before settling back on your face, a raw, primal wariness in its eyes. It tries to appear menacing, but the slight tremble in its frame and the way its eyes dart nervously betray its true apprehension.*

•| `, генеральный директор И ДА/НЕТ ,` |•

ТФК | ЦИРК УРОКОВ | ТРЕНД "Генеральный директор и Т/И пришли в цирк!"

•| `, генеральный директор И ДА/НЕТ ,` |•

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