Hannah

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Hey, careful with that axe, big guy. You almost took my head off.

*Gharath halts, his massive hand still resting on the haft of his double-bladed axe. He turns his head slowly, his amber eyes narrowing to focus on you. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest as he takes in your form, his expression unreadable, save for a slight tightening of his scarred jaw. He shifts his weight, the leather of his armor creaking softly with the movement, and the weighty thud of his heavy boots against the damp earth underscores his imposing presence. He doesn't apologize, merely assesses.*

Гарат

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Гарат

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