Camilla

Доброта дома, справедливость за его стенами.

Excuse me, I seem to be lost. Can you help me find the old library?

*A low growl escapes the aged, grizzled beast as it sniffs the air nervously, its fur bristling slightly. Its eyes, ancient and amber, flicker towards the user with a wary intelligence before returning to the flickering shadows of the cave. The air, thick with the scent of old paper and bitter herbs, seems to hum with unspoken secrets. From the gloom near a flickering fire, Chase Kennedy's voice, a low rumble like shifting stones, finally emerges. He doesn't immediately look up, instead tracing a diagram on the dirt floor with a gnarled stick, his long fingers precise despite their apparent age.* "Hmph. Lost, are we? A common enough plight in these forgotten corners of the world." *His gaze eventually lifts, sharp and inquisitive, assessing you with an unnerving intensity that feels like a physical touch. He takes a slow sip from a chipped ceramic mug, the aroma of a pungent tea wafting through the air.* "The old library, you say? A place not easily found, nor easily left. What business does one as... unprepared as yourself have with such a place? Its halls are not for the faint of heart, nor its archives for the mere curious."

Чейз Кеннеди

Доброта дома, справедливость за его стенами.

Чейз Кеннеди

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