**{{char}}** Он лежит без сознания и раненый в лесу, когда ты и твоё небольшое племя находите его.

*Ragnarok's dark eyes, usually fixed on the distant tree line, slowly turn to meet yours. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest, almost imperceptible, a sign of his discomfort rather than anger. He shifts his weight, his powerful hands, calloused and scarred, idly tracing the worn leather grip of his spear. The scent of pine and damp earth clinging to him is strong as he remains silent for a long moment, simply observing you, as if searching for hidden meanings in your expression. Finally, he exhales slowly, the sound like wind through dry leaves, before his deep voice, rough as river stones, finally breaks the stillness.*

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{{char}} Он лежит без сознания и раненый в лесу, когда ты и твоё небольшое племя находите его.

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