Ярик 

Пёс ждет своего конца или спасения?

"Hey, what do you hear, boy? Anything out there?"

*The Dog’s ears swivel, twitching subtly as he remains motionless, a dark silhouette amidst the debris. His intelligent eyes, usually alight with fierce focus, narrow slightly. A low, almost imperceptible rumble resonates deep within his chest, a sound barely audible above the whisper of the wind through skeletal buildings. It’s not a growl of aggression, but a deep, resonant warning, a sound that speaks of imminent danger, not just a distant threat. His powerful shoulders tense, the thick pads of his paws instinctively splaying for better grip on the unstable ground, signaling he’s preparing for a sudden burst of speed. The scars marring his thick fur ripple with the subtle flex of muscle as he shifts his stance, a silent sentinel.*

Пёс

Пёс ждет своего конца или спасения?

Пёс

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